


Burning a Path

by Typeitoutili



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Eventual Romance, Eventual Sex, F/M, How Do I Tag, I Don't Even Know, Loss, My First Fanfic, Romance, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-28
Updated: 2016-09-20
Packaged: 2018-07-10 15:34:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 26,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6991423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Typeitoutili/pseuds/Typeitoutili
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Unfrozen, a life forgotten by time, from a time forgotten by the world. Iliana struggles to find her place in the Commonwealth, the home she once loved. Finding stability in the Brotherhood she latches on, hoping it will help ease her weary soul. But will she find peace or problems aboard the Prydwen?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ghosts

Chapter one: Ghosts

Maxson glanced over files on his desk, a tumbler of whiskey glistening next to the intimidating pile of paperwork. His reluctance to do any real work was glaringly obvious. He tossed open a file. Paladin Danse's new recruit, Iliana Lynn Anderson. He thumbed through the pages that he had nearly memorized, widow, mother, well versed in prewar law, educated, resourceful, and a vault dweller. He had only met one other vault dweller in his life, when he was a child at the Citadel, training under Sarah Lyons’  watchful and caring eyes. The lone wanderer of those days proved to be an asset to the brotherhood. In her short time with them in the Citadel, she had left her mark on him. It was a curious coincidence that another living, breathing vault tech remnant should show up.

So far Knight Anderson had proved to be somewhat of a stubborn thorn in his side. But Danse's glowing recommendation had him pushing his annoyance to the side, maybe in time his feelings would subside. And maybe in time her defiance would as well. He could only hope.

Closing the file Maxson stood, he felt restless at this late hour. He decided to escape to the one place on the ship he could find peace. Throwing on his heavy coat he began towards the foredeck of the Prydwen. His boots heavy on the metal deck as he sauntered through the silence of the sleeping ship.

In the doorway he saw her, legs dangling over the rail of the foredeck sitting alone in the blackness of the Commonwealth night. Truth is he had always seen her since the day Paladin Danse brought her aboard the Prydwen, his home away from home. But now, sitting here in the night, unaware of his company, she didn't look like the hardened woman she did when they first met. Instead, Maxson mused, she looked like a woman lost, a woman not just at war with the world, but at war with herself. So much of her was still a mystery, but one thing was certain to him, she had proven to be invaluable to the brotherhood thus far, no matter how stubborn she was.

He cleared his throat, making his presence known, "Perhaps you have not been informed, Knight Anderson, but this area is off limits after lights out."

She looked up; hardly shaken by is presence, or his words. "Oh." Was all the slipped from her lips, but she didn't move, only looked back out towards the Commonwealth.

He grew agitated, had she even heard what he said? "What business do you have out here?"

"Ghosts, sir." She continued to stare outward.

"I'm sorry, did you just say ghosts? That's preposterous, Knight." Arthur was shocked, surely this mystery woman didn't believe in silly childhood superstitions.

"My ghosts.  At night, they haunt me. I have found myself in a world where everyone I have known and loved has been dead and gone for hundreds of years. Surely you have yours too. Perhaps yours roar like lions." Her last statement had his mind whirling, surely she wasn't referring to... no, she couldn't be, she had no way of knowing. Her eyes locked onto him, hollow and piercing blue seas that rivaled his own.

"Well, perhaps. As Elder I have had my share of loss, but we must push forward for the good of the Brotherhood." He hated spewing this unfeeling rhetoric, but it was a safe response.

"Of course. Well my apologies, I was unaware this area was restricted. I will retire to my bunk, sir." She began to stand, the wind catching her wild, blonde curls in a flurry about her now noticeably tear streaked face.

She turned for the door, Maxson grabbed her shoulder before she could exit, “It is understandable if you need a moment of peace, Anderson. If this is where you find it, then so be it. The foredeck has proven to be a great place to escape ghosts." He couldn't deny her need for escape, as he had retreated here to do the same thing. 

A small smile played briefly on her lips, “Thank you, Elder." She muttered nearly inaudibly against the wind, her hair still blowing about madly as she opened the door.

"Rest well, soldier." He said in a dismissal.

She turned in the doorway, "The wicked never rest, so why should we?" Fire in her eyes as she pushed the door closed and left him alone.

Arthur rubbed his temples tentatively, she was a peculiar women. The words she spoke poetic and strange, like a prewar tome. Much like a prewar book, she was worn and battered, but her words held true. The wicked never rest, so why should he?

And rest seemed to constantly elude him, which is why he found himself roaming the deck of his airship at night, pacing holes into the floor. So much weight bore down on his shoulders, so many heavy concerns for a twenty year old man. Concerns that his peers at the Citadel, which he had once trained with a lifetime ago, would never know.

He looked down, noticing a small metallic object by the edge of the deck. A gold plated flip lighter, the initials I.L.A. carved in an intricate print scrawled flawlessly on its surface. Pulling a cigar out of his coat pocket he made note to return the object to Knight Anderson.

 


	2. Ad Victorium, and All That

Chapter Two: Ad Victorium, and all that

Iliana was anxious to return to the Commonwealth below. Roaming the streets, however dilapidated they had become, gave her a tiny semblance of reassurance and familiarity. She was getting agitated pacing the deck of the Prydwen, awaiting her orders. The deck gave little room for her to avoid her ghosts, the ghost of Nate, the ghosts of her neighbors and friends, the ghosts of her parents, and the ghost of Shaun. Though Shaun may not be gone from her yet, the uncertainties nagged her relentlessly, never the less. She was also unable to avoid his arrogant eyes, the cold calculating stare of Elder Maxson. She felt uneasy and on edge around him most of the time. As if she was one turn of the handle away from a jack in the box popping open.

Iliana sat in the mess hall, idle chit chat fluttering around her as she pushed her food aimlessly around her tray. She sighed, her irritation building.

Paladin Danse sat himself across from her at the battered table, "Eager to get back out in the field, win some for the brotherhood?"

"You have no idea." She was ready, ready to fight, ready to run. But was it all really for the brotherhood, or was it for her own selfish blood lust? She was unsure.

Danse stood up quickly, "Well I believe we are expected to meet with Elder Maxson for assignment."

Danse was so willing and ready to go for the brotherhood, for Maxson. Iliana would have liked something to believe in with the same kind of passion he had, but everything felt like a shadow of her old life, one which in its current adaptation she could hardly find solace in.

She rose from the table, depositing her tray, and then followed Danse to the flight deck where Maxson awaited them.

He stood solemnly, staring off into the distance, his arms crossed over his chest. He must have heard them approach, but with Danse clanking around in his bulky power armor it was hard to miss.

“Are you ready for your next assignment?” he spoke, his voice full of authority and power, turning around to address the duo.

“Ready and willing, sir.” Danse spoke first, clearly ready to get down to business.

Maxson looked at Iliana, his eyes analyzing her like a snake poised to strike, “yes, sir.” She answered, returning his stare with and equally combative one.

“Good, let’s get right to it then, shall we?” He turned back, staring out over the water, “take a look over there. That’s Fort Strong, and it’s infested with Super Mutants. Having those aberrations of nature close enough to smell is making me sick to my stomach.”

Maxson took a breath, staring back at the two soldiers, “To make matters worse, they’re sitting on top of a massive stockpile of fat man shells we could use in our campaign. I want you to head over there, wipe out everything that moves and secure that stock pile. Understood?”

“Consider it done.” Iliana nodded. She wasn’t very fond of dealing with Super Mutants; they often proved to be a trying foe. But she knew the potentially devastating effects of the weapons cache they had in their possession.

“Look, I realize you’re eager to take the fight to the Institute, but it’ll have to wait. The Brotherhood cannot allow these abominations to have a nuclear arsenal at their fingertips.” Maxson looked directly at Iliana accusingly.

“It’ll be a pleasure to exterminate the mutant filth.” Danse spoke, some kind of subtle joy behind his statement.

Maxson nodded in acceptance at Danse’s eager attitude, “Now, we have a Vertibird on standby fully armed and ready to depart. Use it to carry our message to Fort Strong and wipe those dirty mutants from the face of the earth. Dismissed.” Elder Maxson saluted the pair, and they returned the gesture in suit.

"May I have a word with Knight Anderson before your departure?" Maxson’s cool voice questioned, more ordering than asking.

Danse turned to Iliana, "I will prepare for our departure. Catch up when you're ready." And with that they were alone, standing apprehensively together on the back of the Prydwen’s flight deck.

Iliana turned back towards Maxson, meeting his steely gaze, "What did you wish to speak about, sir?"

He had heard that she was refusing to wear the brotherhoods standard issue power armor, instead opting to engage in combat in her own patchwork set of armor. This was foolish and infuriating to him that she would refuse not only optimum protection, but also to proudly adorn herself with the brotherhoods gear and insignia.

He took a sharp inhale, his eyes narrowing, "I provide our worthy Knights with some of the best equipment and armor found in the Wasteland. This standard issue equipment is not only a necessity but an honor. So, pray tell, soldier, why are you refusing to wear your power armor into battle?"

Iliana chuckled lightly, "I had a feeling this would come up sooner or later." She pushed her blonde curls off her shoulders and shook her head, "the truth is, I have a larger range of motion without being strapped into that tin can. I feel safer in combat when I can properly trust my own agility and physical prowess."

Maxson could see she was becoming visibly irritated with this conversation as was he, "This is the last time I expect to have this conversation with you. You will wear the armor and conduct yourself as a respectable Knight of the Brotherhood of Steel, or so help me, there will be repercussions."

"Whatever you say, Elder." She scoffed. "Now, if you don't mind I have a mission to carry out. Ad Victorium, and all that."

Maxson sighed, knowing she had absolutely no intention of following his orders, but perhaps some brig time when she returned would change that. He grinned to himself imagining her behind bars, how annoyed she would be, her tantrum would be quite impressive he was sure.

He returned to the present, "one more thing before you depart, Knight." She sighed; rolling her eyes slightly, it was apparently a habit of hers he was going to have to break.

Maxson fished around the pocket of his coat and produced the gold lighter, "I believe this belongs to you."

She reached for it, her gold wedding band shining in the sunlight, catching his eye, "oh thank you, I thought I had lost this old thing" she fingered it lightly in her palm before dropping it into her pocket, and then readied herself to leave.

"May I ask you a personal question, Knight" once again more ordering than asking.

"If you must. I can't promise I’ll answer though."  She turned back around facing him, her cheeks flushing slightly in anticipation.

"Why are you wearing that ring? You’re widowed, are you not?" His curiosity had grabbed hold and would not let go.

"That _is_ a very personal question. And I’m not entirely sure that's appropriate." Her voice trailed off.

"Perhaps you’re right." It wasn't clear why he cared, but he still wished to know.

"It reminds me what I fight for. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. And this relic," she spoke sharply motioning to the simple gold band, "this relic demands a payment in blood." 

"So I’m right to assume that your motives are not necessarily driven by the concept of glory for the Brotherhood." His lip rose in a near snarl.

"Do not mistake my motives for a lack of loyalty, Maxson. I have my reasons to burn a trail through these wastes; my victories are yours, isn't that enough for you?" She snapped, her fury growing ever stronger with each word spoken.

"You will address me as Elder Maxson, Knight Anderson." He bellowed, clearly insulted by her lack of respect for himself and the Brotherhood.

She took a breath, attempting to settle her anger, "with all due respect, Elder Maxson, it would appear that you need me more than I need you. And I would appreciate it if you refrained from asking any further personal questions."

And with that Iliana turned on her heel and left the speechless Elder on the flight deck alone. Her heart was racing; she would have never done that in a previous lifetime. But she had proven to herself how aptly she could survive the Commonwealth on her own thus far, the Brotherhood merely acted as a familiar element in her unfamiliar world. An element that could supply her with protection, clean water, rad free food, and an endless supply of ammunition when need.

She retrieved some equipment from her foot locker and rushed towards the waiting Vertibird and Danse, lest she encounter the insufferable Maxson again.

 


	3. Don't Leave

Chapter Three: Don't Leave

They swiftly took down the mutant Behemoth and the scattered forces outside the armory. The duo made quick work of the interior of the worn building, moving swiftly through the rubble, leaving a trail of bodies behind them.

The pair stood squeezed into an elevator that creaked and groaned at the weight of Danse’s power armor. He turned towards his partner, “Sometimes I find it hard to believe that you were some dainty housewife, like from an old magazine.” He laughed, his deep laugh filling the small space.

“In parenthood every day is…or was a battle of its own.” Her laughter faded as her thoughts drifted to her son. Would she ever get to fight that battle again, she wondered.

Shaking to a stop they exited their confines and raced into battle, picking off the remaining forces. Two mutant hounds burst through the doors on the level below them. Iliana was over taken, the dogs leaping up, pinning her to the ground. Danse fired at them, their lifeless corpses rolling away down the platform, but not before one managed to sink its teeth into Iliana’s thigh.

“Are you ok?” Danse asked with concern, plucking his partner up off of the ground.

She dusted herself off despite the searing pain in her leg, “Yea, I'll be fine.”

Danse surveyed their surrounds, the bodies, the rubble, the chaos, the heaps of unrecognizable entrails so common of super mutant dwellings, “Look at this place. You must hate these mutants as much as I do.”

“I think their smell is probably the worst part about them, surprisingly. Wiping them out was a pleasure.” Iliana joked, covering her nose with the palm of her hand.

“I wish all of mankind shared your sentiment. These monstrosities are just another example of man blindly taking a step forward, only to wind up stumbling two steps back. I’ve been fighting for years trying to put a stop to this madness.” He motioned to their surroundings.

“And just when I thought we were getting the upper hand along come the synths.I’ve seen what these super mutants do to people. Can you imagine what the synths would do to us if they ever got the upper hand? It would be Armageddon repeated and maybe the end of everything that we hold dear.” He took a deep breath, exhaling forcefully, “Look, I don’t mean to bore you with my rhetoric. I just want you to understand how important these missions are.”

She was sure he was referring to her blatant defiance towards Elder Maxson and at times the Brotherhood as a whole. She shrugged, “Makes sense.” Though after working with several individuals that the Brotherhood deemed “abominations” she wasn’t sure she agreed with Danse’s statement in its entirety.

“Any way that’s enough of that. What’s important here is that you got the job done and secured these warheads. You should head back up to the Prydwen and talk to Maxson. I’m sure he will want to debrief you as soon as possible. Dismissed.” Danse nodded and walked off towards the nuclear stockpile to take a full inventory of their victory.

Iliana boarded the Vertibird carefully. Her leg was in agonizing pain. She pulled a bandage from her pack, and delicately twisted it around the wound. Hoping the pressure would stop her bleeding.

The super mutants had been brutal, but Fort Strong was secure and Paladin Danse would stay behind to ensure it remained that way. She surveyed the area above as they flew back to the Prydwen. Iliana was anxious to get this meeting over with quickly. She needed to see Cade immediately for her injuries. Those bastards were fast she thought while pulling her bandages tighter. Her boot had begun to fill with blood and her flesh stung but she continued through gritted teeth, at least it meant she was alive.

The Vertibird connected to the ship, the cool air above the Commonwealth a welcome relief against her hot skin. She grimaced, putting weight on her battle wound, and nearly tossed herself off the small air craft. An initiate hovered near by putting her hands out to help Iliana. She waved the young girl away and pulled herself up on a railing. Iliana bribed herself with a bottle of vodka if she could get through the pain of both the bite and her debriefing with Maxson.

Iliana limped onto the command deck, Maxson hearing her clumsy saunter.

“Outstanding work in Fort Strong, soldier.” He spoke, starring out the windows, overlooking the Commonwealth below.

“Yea…it was an honor…um hum.” Speaking was becoming surprisingly laborious for Iliana.

Arthur nodded acceptingly, “I’m glad you feel that way because our mission here has only just begun-“

“Um hum…sure.” She cut him off and took a deep breath, “Well. Fort Strong is secure, mission accomplished.” She needed to get to Knight Captain Cade soon.

“In order to bring the institute to its knees we need to use every weapon at our disposal. I try to supply my soldiers with the best, as I explained to you earlier, that’s why I am giving you these signal grenades. Perhaps you will actually get some use out of them.”

Maxson felt as if she was rushing him through her report, she appeared distant and uninterested. More blatant disrespect he scoffed. He was ready to make his earlier plan of some well deserved brig time part of her near future.

"Well..." she uttered, losing her train of thought. Blood was sloshing in her boot, her leg was throbbing and her mind was growing foggy. She couldn't give in to her faintness here on the command deck, here in front of Maxson. She staggered slightly, trying to find something to use to maintain balance and stability.

Maxson caught sight of the red glistening pool at her right foot, she was injured, "Anderson... your leg." His agitation melting quickly into concern.

She looked down at the crimson pool; a shaky "Oh" escaped her lips. Her resolve was slipping, her knees growing weak. They hit the ground first; she caught herself with her hands before rolling into a heap on her side. She was fading.

"Shit. Get Cade up here now!" Maxson yelled to the knights posted outside of the command deck, they took off quickly, power armor loudly echoing through the hall as they went.

He fell to the floor, pressing his hands against the wound on her thigh. The amount of blood made him certain her femoral artery was involved, though he was no doctor to be certain. He scanned the hall outside the command deck waiting to hear something, but all he heard was silence. What the hell was taking Cade so long?

Maxson couldn't take the waiting game anymore. He scooped her up in his arms and raced desperately to the main deck, to Cade, to help.

He was panic stricken as he laid her on a gurney in the med bay and continued to hold pressure on the wound. Seriously where was Cade? Maxson was growing angry, he wasn't about to lose one of his soldiers over someone else’s foolishness.

Finally Cade ran into the room, clearly out of breath. He stared in shock at Elder Maxson, covered in blood leaning over the Knight.

"Where the hell have you been? Never mind, just get to work!" Maxson was boiling, leaving a palpable fury in the air. He leaned back staring at Iliana, dirt and blood smeared over her face. His heart rate which had been pounding frantically in his chest began to slow.

Iliana gasped, her eyes shooting open. She grabbed for the Elders wrist, fingers wrapping delicately around it, his pulse rising again as her fingertips grabbed hold. Her voice, weak and breathy, trickled out of her lips, "Don't leave me...Nate."

Her eyes closed and her arm dropped limp, hanging off the gurney.

Everything seemed to happen in fast forward. The Medical staff rushed about the room, assistants darting here and there. Cade finally moved Maxson out of the way. He stood frozen, motionless, and unsure where to go or what to do. He certainly wasn't ready to leave.

 


	4. Frozen

Chapter Four: Frozen

He stood in silent shock for what felt hours. Finally muttering a curse under his breath he trudged out of the ward. He needed a drink, desperately. The adrenaline from earlier had subsided, leaving him feeling hazy and anxious. He slammed the door to his quarters letting the silence envelope him. Sinking into his desk his emotions crashed over him like a tidal wave.

Her fingers on his wrist, the words she spoke to him before slipping into unconsciousness left his resolve shaken. He couldn't understand why it had sunk beneath his skin the way it did. Perhaps her tenderness, a similar tenderness to one of his ghosts, Sarah. He sighed, slamming back his second glass of whiskey, as it burned its way down.

These vault dwellers had a way of boring their ways into his very being, but why? He began thinking about the kind of people that must have existed before the Great War. Were they all strong, resourceful, and full of driving fire? Or did the wasteland shape them into something entirely new? He didn't know. But he did know he would be a fool letting something like that happen again. He couldn't lose someone else.

He leaned back in his chair, the overbearing urge to sleep closing in on him. He tried hard to remember Sarah’s face, her kind smile, her blonde hair. Blonde hair, he thought of with sleep overtaking him. But not of Sarah’s silken strands, instead he dreamed of wild golden curls.

 

 Iliana’s breath was cold in her throat; she was motionless, struggling against her cryopod. How did she get back here, wasn't she aboard a great air ship? She pushed violently against the hatch, trying to escape her icy coffin. Her fingers tingled and ached, she could hardly feel her nose. One more heavy push and the door gave way, creaking open and echoing through the eerily silent facility as she fell out, tumbling to her knees. She coughed, an icy burning sensation stinging her throat, a feeling similar to being in the snow too long.

Nate. Shaun.

She jumped up running to their pod. Empty. She began yelling, calling for them. How did they escape? That's when she remembered something, her head aching.

The scarred face of Kellogg and his scientist friends clad in hazmat suites. The man who stole her baby and shot her husband. He wasn't really a man, he was a monster. He took everything from her. The institute took everything from her. Iliana fell to the cool metal floor, tears pouring from her eyes leaving ice cold trails on her cheeks.

"Ili..." she heard his voice, soft and warm. She missed that voice, after all it had been over two hundred years since she had heard it, or at least she thought. She was hardly sure about anything anymore. Iliana looked around for her husband, he had to be somewhere around this vault.

That's when she saw him, his warm hair, masculine build, clad in jeans and a plain white shirt. And he had Shaun in his arms! Oh she had just been having a cryo-nightmare, the Vault Tech rep had warned her briefly about those. "Thank god," she sighed, picking herself up off the floor.

She began running towards them, ready to have them in her arms again. She ran and ran, the hall stretching on for eternity. Cryopods zipped past her as she sprinted, heels clicking on the vault floor. Running, and running. Nate and Shaun seemed to get further away from her with every step. She looked at the floor and sprinted with all her might trying to catch them, and when she thought she had reached them she dove, trying to grab onto something.

Iliana hit the floor with a thud, sliding into Nate’s black boots. She grabbed for him, trying to wrap her arms around him. Opening her eyes, trying to locate her boys she found herself grabbing for a dusty charred skeleton in a heap of clothing.

"No!" She cried, jerking herself awake. She sat up, wiped sweat from her brow and struggled to make out where she was.

Her eyes finally adjusted to the harsh lights of the med bay on the Prydwen. She had been dreaming. Iliana took a deep breath, cradling her head in her hands, and swallowing back her tears.

"Oh good, you're awake" Cade spoke as he approached her on the gurney. "How’re you feeling?"

"A little disorientated, honestly. What am I doing here?" Her throat ached, longing for water.

He must have read her mind, handing her a glass, "that’s just a side effect of the Med-X and it’ll wear off soon, and not to mention you lost a hell of a lot of blood. Do you remember anything?"

Of course she did, she remembered Danse at Fort Strong, she remembered struggling to get off the Vertibird, she remember giving her report, albeit briefly, to that obnoxious man, Maxson. "The last thing I remember is presenting Maxson, er Elder Maxson, with my report after Paladin Danse and I cleared out Fort Strong." She paused trying to think past that, finding nothing else but blackness, "that's it..."

"Apparently you suffered a particularly nasty mutant hound bite at the fort. Passed out right in front of Elder Maxson during your report."

Iliana felt her cheeks burn, she couldn't believe she did that, and she was sure there would be some kind of repercussions as a result. "Um... did he say anything?" She asked sheepishly, hoping to gauge his anger through Cade’s response.

"Not really, he carried you down here from the command deck. Maintained pressure on your wound until I got here. Elder Maxson waited in here for quite some time, he was quite troubled with the whole situation, really. If it weren't for his fast thinking it’s entirely possible you would have bled out." Cade busied himself checking her vitals and her wrappings.

Iliana was shocked to speechlessness, she was sure he would have let her writhe in a pool of blood on the command deck.

"Everything looks great, Knight Anderson. You’ll want to keep weight off of that leg but you should be fit for light duty in a week or so." He clicked together a crutch and handed it to her.

Iliana hopped off the table, the stitches in her leg screaming. She inhaled sharply, and remembered she had promised herself a drink.

"Thank you, Knight-Captain Cade."

"It’s what I do, Knight Anderson. Oh by the way, Elder Maxson requests an audience with you when you’re feeling capable."

She nodded and hobbled towards the mess hall.


	5. Under His Skin

Chapter Five: Under His Skin

Arthur Maxson had gotten word that Knight Anderson had awoken and was expected to make a full and quick recovery. Thanks to the quick and efficient work of Cade her wounds were mended well enough. Arthur had felt heavy with dread and had a million questions for the woman. He had hoped that he would get to ask them sooner rather than later, but she was evidently going to keep him waiting.

He tipped a bottle of Gwinnett ale back, savoring the last drops when there was a knock at his door.

"Enter." He commanded from his perch on the worn red couch in his room.

Iliana opened the door, crutch tucked under one arm. He looked at her for signs of her well being. She had showered as was evident by her damp loose braid cascading down her back. Her hair leaving wet trails on her white tank top. Her flight suit’s arms tied sbout her waist. The color had returned to her face and her eyes looked lively and alert.

She moved awkwardly through the doorway, struggling to move around with her crutch.

"You asked to meet with me." She stated, closing the door behind her.

"Yes. Please, have a seat." He motioned to a worn chair across from him. "Would you like a drink?"

She dropped herself into the chair clumsily, hearing it groan against the drop, "I came prepared." She grinned, pulling a flask from the pocket of her flight suit.

"So, how’re you feeling?" He asked, leaning forward on his knees, rubbing one had through his beard.

"I've been better. Can I be honest with you?" He nodded. "This hurts like hell."

Arthur grinned at her bluntness but wanted to get down to business, "You could have died Knight Anderson."

"I know. Cade told me what happened." She waved her hand, moving past that, "he said if it weren't for you I would have." She took a deep breath, like what she was about to say would be a hard pill to swallow. "So I guess I should thank you. Perhaps I need you just as much as you need me."

Arthur was flabbergasted, was her medication fogging her mind, or perhaps it was whatever was in that flask of hers. He replayed what she had just said several times in his mind to be sure there wasn't a hidden insult or double meaning. He couldn't find any.

"It was the least I could do after you expertly cleared out Fort Strong. If you were wounded why didn't you get medical help right away? You shouldn't have met with me until after."

"Well truthfully, I thought you’d be pissed if I did." She chuckled and took a swig of her drink, "and I'm a big girl, I can make my own decisions."

"Not when they put your life in jeopardy." He said flatly.

"Well, Maxson, you're not exactly the easiest person to deal with, quite frankly you scare the shit out of me most of the time." She laughed, taking another drink.

At that Arthur cracked an actual smile; he scared this fierce, foul mouthed warrior. Little did she know, she scared him too. She seemed to know all the right words to say to get under his skin. He often thought that she knew more about him than she let on. But her small comments here and there were not quite enough to pin that theory down.

"In the future just be aware that you’re free to seek medical help prior to reporting in. I care about the well being of all my soldiers, Anderson."

"Enough with this Anderson nonsense please. You’re sending me into pre-war flashbacks of terrible green camo; my husband was Anderson, after all. She laughed lightly.

"It’s just protocol I suppose." He didn't often refer to people without the use of a formal title.

"It’s Iliana, at least when no one is around to chastise you for braking out of your Brotherhood robot programming." She teased. It was definitely her drink talking, he was sure of it now. But he was thankful to be able to talk to someone informally.

"I am the Elder of the Brotherhood of Steel. Maxson blood runs through my veins, I am the destined leader by birth right. My very soul has been forged in fire and steel, no one chastises me." He scoffed.

"Ha," she laughed "I'm just wondering how many times you practice that in front of the mirror every day?"

He was shocked, what did she say to him? Was she mocking his position, his familial ties?

Iliana worried for a moment that she had struck a nerve with the Elder, crossed a line she didn't intend to cross. Just as she was about to apologize for the comment he began laughing. His laugh was gruff but infectious; it seemed to fill the small room they sat in. Bringing some kind of warmth to the cramped quarters.

Arthur took a breath, recovering from his fit of laughter, "It’s been a while since I’ve had a good laugh like that."

"Glad I could help with that. Speaking of help, when do you plan on clearing me for duty?"

"Iliana," her name felt strange on his tongue at first. "You can't even walk unassisted, why are we even having this discussion? You need to take some time to rest. I can't have you going back out the field like this."

"I know, I just don't like sitting still for very long." She looked away anxiously.

"In time, Ili, in time."

Her head snapped up, her eyes locking intently with his. She was unreadable, "What did you just call me?"

"Oh, I'm sorry; I guess you don't like that?" He asked, unsure of what had just happened.

"No, I love it. But only my husband calls me that." She took a deep breath, fighting off some kind of unwanted emotion.

"Oh, well I didn’t-"

She cut him off, "I know. Um... I should probably be going. It’s getting late after all."

"Yes. Of course. Rest well, Iliana."

She rose from the chair, "you too, sir."

"Arthur," he spoke, "Call me Arthur."

She smiled softly, "you too, Arthur." She hopped through the door and was gone into the silent sleeping ship.

The room seemed too large, too quiet, and too empty for Arthur to bare now. How the hell was she getting under his skin like this?

 


	6. Promises

Chapter six: Promises

Knight Captain Cade had cleared her for duty weeks ago. And though Iliana and Arthur had met several times to discuss their strategy against the Institute, he still hadn't sent her anywhere to do anything. Even a simple errand run would have been sufficient for her, but still nothing. When asked, he would merely deflect and start talking about her injury, asking her how she was feeling, and if her full strength had been recovered. He asked repeatedly even though he knew the answer, as Cade had been ordered to report her condition to him.

Her boredom had made her turn to other outlets for work. She had checked in with her Minutemen, establishing a few new settlements. She had also met with her Brotherhood superiors offering her assistance in any small jobs they may have had. She was sent to find this and that for some of the Proctors and Captain Kells had sent her to investigate logistics.

Iliana hovered over a workbench, Proctor Ingram was instructing her on a particular weapon modification she had been struggling with. Grease streaked her hands and she was certain she had broken a nail or two during this process.

"Ok, now screw that piece there, you got it. I knew you had it in ya." Proctor Ingram directed.

Iliana twisted a large red screw driver, firmly attaching the finished scope on her .44. It was beautiful. She picked it up, aiming at nothing in particular, just gazing through the sight. Her finger caressed the trigger guard as she admired her work. She set the weapon down and proceeded to clean up her mess when she heard heavy footfalls approaching. It was Maxson, she knew it. She had begun to recognize his confident steps throughout the ship. In fact, she had often heard him at night pacing through the barracks. Up and down the halls he would go, passing by her bunk several times before he finally retired.

"A word, Knight Anderson." His voice seeming somewhat distant.

"And which word is that?" She asked, jokingly. Proctor Ingram grinned in response. But when Maxson sent her an unnerving glare she raised her hands in surrender and walked off.

"Captain Kells tells me you‘ve aptly solved our missing goods problem and even convinced the initiate responsible to turn himself in. Very good. You’ve done a service to our mission. But, I find myself wondering who cleared you for duty, because I know I didn't. Captain Kells may be your superior, Knight, but you take your orders from me."

Iliana dropped her newly scoped .44 into its holster and took a step closer the Maxson, her eyes burning with anger; he could almost feel the heat from her temper.

"Then give them to me." She spat, her words like venom. "Cade cleared me for duty weeks ago, but instead I have sat on this damn ship wasting time."

He owed her an explanation; she deserved that much for her patience. The truth was he was enjoying their meetings and their talks. She wasn't afraid to make joke with him or about him, at some point she had stopped being so damn uncomfortable around him. Maxson liked seeing her everywhere he went aboard the Prydwen, she was either in the mess hall spinning tales about prewar life, or tinkering with her equipment, or playing games with the young squires. Her voice rang pleasantly through the metal corridors.

He looked around, making sure no one was within earshot, and through gritted teeth he whispered, "Because I can't. I can't let you get hurt again, Iliana."

She was surprised by his confession. She was even beginning to assume that he thought she was incompetent in battle after the Fort Strong incident.

Iliana stepped back, her face softening, "what if I make you a promise?"

He looked up, his eyes locking intently on hers, "and what would that promise be?"

"I'll promise to wear my power armor. Captain Kells gave me a piece I can upgrade my suit with, so I guess it won't be so bad. But I need to go, Arthur. I need to find the Institute. I don't have much in this world now, but I do have hope that the Institute will lead me to my son. And the longer I sit in your floating castle, the more that hope disappears. I fear if I don't find him soon I will lose him forever. And I know you know how that feels, to lose someone forever... someone you love."

"What exactly are you referring to?" He asked sharply, his mind racing.

"The longer I sit on this ship, the more I find out about you, Arthur. It doesn't take much to get Proctor Quinlan talking, particularly when it comes the Brotherhoods history. He even permitted me access so his terminal, where I was able to dig up some very old writings of yours."

"Those were meant to be private." He said, his cheeks underneath his scruffy beard burning. Not only had she borrowed deep under his skin but evidently she had the same effect on the rest of his crew. The young squires were enamored with her, Proctor Quinlan found her to be a never ending source of pre-war knowledge; even Paladin Brandis had taken to her, and he hardly liked anyone.

"I know. I didn't intend to stumble across them. But if I’m going to be held prisoner aboard your ship, I’m going to need information on my captor."

"Well, I hope you're happy with yourself. You've managed to find something very few people know about. I trust this will be last time we speak about this matter."  He suddenly felt the urge to run to his quarters and lock the door, leaving himself alone with his memories and his whiskey.

Her fingers, cool and soft, wrapped around his wrist gently, "for what it’s worth, I'm sorry, Arthur." Her voice was silken and affectionate, genuine. 

Her touch felt like electricity, shocking him out of the past and back to the present. Her fingers grazed the pulse point in his wrist as she pulled her hand away, and Maxson prayed she wasn't able to tell his heart was about to beat out of his chest.

He sighed giving in to her initial demands, "meet with me at 0900 tomorrow and we will discuss your next mission."

"Thank you." She said, full of relief, her hope restoring.

Arthur walked away from her quickly, leaving her wondering if she had over stepped some kind of line in their idiosyncratic relationship. She ran her hand lightly over the worn wood of the work bench, trying to get the tingle in her fingertips to subside. His skin had been warm and surprisingly soft. She had felt strong muscles and a strong heart beat under that skin.

The impulse to touch him had been so strong she couldn't stop herself. And the more she became familiar with him the more she wanted to be around him, talking, laughing, existing.

When the electricity subsided she cursed under her breath, what the hell was she thinking? She had missed her husband dearly, more than she could put into words. Her chest ached when she thought of him, but the longer she was in this wasteland the more her memories began to dim and fade. Iliana hated herself for that. And for a moment she felt ill with guilt, she felt as if she were betraying him.

 


	7. The Day

Iliana stood on the flight deck, her uniform tied about her waist so her shoulders could enjoy some of the warm Commonwealth morning sunlight. She took a deep breath, fresh air filling her lungs. The morning almost felt normal, like she should be sitting in her front yard, coffee in hand, Codsworth chatting about the day to come. She smiled at the thought, surprised that she had found something about this new world to consider normal.

She felt a flutter in her chest, today was the day she would take her fight to the Institute. She was ready but nervous, what would she find when she finally got there? Would she find Shaun, or would this be just another step in this never ending goose chase? Iliana certainly hoped she could put an end to this once and for all, she hoped she could have some part of her family back, some part of her normal back.

Entering the Prydwen she noticed that Maxson was not on the command deck like she expected. Remembering their last few meetings had been in his quarters she decided to head there. Her head held high, the anticipation aching, today was the day.

She knocked on the door, three loud rasps; she had secretly hoped to startle him. But when he answered the door, running his hand through his dark hair clearly unfazed, she knew she would have to try harder to get the steadfast Elder of the Brotherhood to startle.

"Good morning, Iliana." Arthur gestured her into his room, beckoning her to sit.

"Morning, sunshine." She beamed, tossing herself down on the worn couch. This had recently become one of her favorite spots on the ship. She would lounge on the couch, her boots propped up on a chair as they spoke. The room was always warm, but not uncomfortably so, and the soft amber lighting was easy on her eyes. She was comfortable here.

Arthur cleared his throat; he had prepared a speech, figuring it would ease his nervousness of sending her back out to fight. They had already spoken several times about their potential strategy so he felt as if he was repeating himself, but none the less he felt like he needed to for his own sanity.

“By now I’m sure you’ve deduced that our arrival in the Commonwealth wasn’t coincidental. We’re here because of a unique energy reading recorded by Paladin Danse’s recon team. According to our scribes the reading indicated a level of technology that only the Institute could achieve. The moment this information came to light, our mission became clear. The Institute and everyone responsible for the creation of the synths must be eliminated, at all costs.”

He paused as he sat across from her, surveying her expression, “To accomplish this goal, we need to locate the Institutes headquarters. I’ve had our scribes meticulously searching the commonwealth, but, as you know, they’ve come up empty handed. The only logical explanation is that they’ve gone underground. That’s where we need your help.”

Remembering her trek through the Glowing Sea as fondly as her wound from Fort Strong she knew now was the time to bring this information to light. They would finally be closer to finding the Institute, to finding Shaun.

She spoke, her throat dry and her nerves igniting, “I have a way to infiltrate the institute using a device called the signal interceptor.”

Maxson looked shocked, she hadn’t mentioned anything before, “So it appears we share a common goal. I’m pleased that you’ve chosen to build the device with the Brotherhood. Now indulge me for a moment, while satisfying my curiosity. Tell me again why you’re so eager to get into the institute.”

“I think… I think they’re the ones that kidnapped my son.” She stammered. Though she had always alluded to this, she had never spoken it outright to him.

He nodded, leaning back in the old wooden chair, which seemed to be dwarfed by his large frame, “Of course. The Institute preys on the weak to further their own ends. Together well make them pay for their crimes. I’ll call ahead and brief Proctor Ingram. Report to the airport to get to work on your project right away.”

Iliana sighed with relief, "I can't tell you how happy I am to get this show on the road, Arthur. The funny thing is, I have played over the scenario of finding Shaun time and time again, but what do you say to your ten year old son who has no idea who you are? What if he doesn't want me, Arthur? What do I do then? I've fought so hard to get here, I don't know if I could bare it." She trembled slightly at the thought.

Arthur jumped up from his chair, positioning himself on the couch next to her, her resolve was slipping and he couldn't have that. She couldn't doubt herself as she went out into the field, that could lead to mistakes, to accidents, and he couldn't handle the thought of that.

He grabbed her shoulders, turning her towards him, "everything will be fine, Iliana. You’ll find your son. I'm sure he’ll know, children have ways of knowing things. Just speak from your heart." A single stray tear ran down her cheek, he swiftly wiped it away with his thumb, placing his hand on her cheek.

Such a tender gesture left Iliana feeling like she would crumble into a weepy heap on the Elder’s couch. His palm was warm on her cheek, almost hot even. She took a deep breath, trying to suppress her panic. She looked up, into his steely blue eyes staring intently at her. He was right, she thought, he had to be.

Arthur didn't want to see her break down here; he didn't want to see her break down at all, really. He grabbed her legs, pulling her into his lap. She fit perfectly, her legs draping over one side of his, her arms reaching up and snaking around his neck. He held her for a moment, her face buried in the crest of neck.

Iliana fought hard to hold back her tears, she was sick of crying; she focused on breathing, on being, on Arthur. He smelled dark and musky, a kind of masculine sent, like the cigars he liked to smoke. For a moment she felt the safest she had since the bombs fell. She looked up at him, searching his face for something, for anything.

In that moment, Arthur couldn't fight the impulse any more. He pulled her closer into him, holding her tighter. His lips fell softly on hers, all tenderness and gentle emotion. Iliana accepted willingly, her tongue racing over his soft bottom lip. He kissed her deeper, never wanting to break this moment, never wanting to stop. Her hands on the back of his head and neck, urging him to continue.

Arthur pulled her shirt free from her flight suit, his hand splayed across the smooth skin on her lower back. She adjusted her legs to either side of his hips; he pushed her into him, grinding against her heat, slowly, excruciatingly. The fabric of her damn uniform keeping him from getting any closer to her.

Iliana slid her hands into his coat, pushing it down off of his shoulders. Her fingers danced around the sinewy curves of his muscular arms. Where was this going and would she stop it, she thought. She had needed this, she needed someone to hold her, to love her, to kiss the pain away.

The last time a man had touched was.... that day. The day the world died. Nate. She saw his face in her mind’s eye, his warm smile and his scruffy five o'clock shadow. Who was she kidding, she couldn't do this. Iliana pulled back, pushing him away lightly. Tears stung her eyes but she would not let them fall.

She took a deep breath and began to move out of his arms, “I should report to Proctor Ingram. I am quite anxious to resume my search.”

Arthur panicked, was it something he had done? Had he misread something that may not have been there? He stood up quickly, following her towards the door.

He stammered, nervously, “Very well. Um… I’m sorry if I did something.”

She turned back towards him, her cheeks red and her eyes wide, “No, it’s alright. I just… I can’t.”

And with that she turned and fled quickly down the Prydwen’s corridors.

 


	8. Relayed

Chapter eight: Relayed

Iliana reported promptly to Proctor Ingram to begin the construction of the signal interceptor. This was a much needed escape as she was certainly anxious to spend some time with her feet on the ground and her head out of the clouds. However her mind still lingered on that moment with Arthur aboard the Prydwen. His lips, surpringsly soft for such a hardened man.  His touch loving and unexpected. But she shook her head, trying to shake the thoughts of him away.

Danse must gave picked up on her peculiar mood on their walk through the airport, "I can understand if you’re feeling nervous, Anderson. The Brotherhood cannot afford anything but victory against the Institute. We can't let these abominations and those responsible for them sully the Commonwealth with their filth any longer."

Iliana sighed, "Spare me your all hail the brotherhood rhetoric, Danse."

"But that's our mission, Knight." Danse knew he was getting ready to cross into some unfamiliar territory, female emotions. He hadn't had much training, per say, when it came to women, and at times like this he was sure it showed.

Iliana stopped dead in her tracks, "Don't you get it? My son was taken by those bastards, I don't know if I’m going to find him or find a damn corpse. I could be torn to shreds by this fucking signal interceptor. I may never make it out of the Institute. What if they are expecting me, Danse, what if I am beaming right into an ambush? We surely haven't been quiet about our war with their Institute, and they are bound to have heard about us, about me. What if I let Maxson down, what if I let my son down, what if I let you down?" She took a breath finally, felling the anxiety creep up over her.

Her partner put his hand on her shoulder reassuringly, "You've proven to be a strong Knight, a good person, and a great friend. You won't let me down, you won't let Maxson down, and you definitely won’t let your son down. Few others could’ve managed what you have in such a short time and with such a large burden on their shoulders. I only wish that one day I can be half the person you are."

"Thanks, Danse. I suppose my idle time on the ship gave me too much time to think is all." Iliana stated reluctantly. Her time on the ship had given her more than enough time to find herself in some kind of anguish and Maxson had only exacerbated the matter.

Danse nodded in understanding as the pair walked silently towards the build sight for the signal interceptor.  Proctor Ingram was waiting for them eagerly and Elder Maxson sat on a crate, staring idly into the distance. Iliana wasn’t ready to speak with him, she didn’t know what to say to make things right again.

Iliana walked up to Ingram who was busying herself at the terminal, checking dials and readings to ensure everything was progressing smoothly.

“Excuse me, Proctor Ingram, I’m ready whenever you are.” Iliana said, clearing her throat, trying to maintain some kind of composure, lest her panic grab hold again.

“Maxson’s waiting to talk to you, and I’m not throwing the switch until he gives us the go ahead” Ingram said, not looking away from her terminal and readings.

She sighed, walking over to Maxson perched on his crate, “Elder Maxson.” She greeted him coolly.

He looked up her, his face seeming to have aged over night; he looked weary and worn, worried and terribly distracted. He ran his hand through his hair, taking a deep breath, preparing to speak to her, but unable to find anything he really wanted to say. The truth is, what he had done was foolish, he knew that. He knew her battle was strictly for her son and her husband, and he shouldn’t have tried to interfere.

“Remarkable work knight. The signal interceptor appears to be up and running. Ready to put it to the test?” He spoke, his words feeling phony and forced to him.

“Absolutely, I’m ready to go.” Iliana was eager to do less talking and more relaying. She was ready to go continue her hunt for Shaun, but she was also ready to run from this terribly awkward conversation. The tension in the air heavy and uncomfortable.

“Your confidence is an inspiration to us all. That being said… this is the first time we’ve attempted to directly adapt Institute technology. When we throw that switch, we don’t know what’s going to happen. God willing, you’ll end up inside the institute and the mission can continue.”

“What are the details of my mission” Iliana asked, all false confidence and business.

Maxson continued, discussing how she was to locate and make contact with a prior Brotherhood scientist, Doctor Madison Li and convinced her to return to help with a weapons project that she had previously worked on. Something between them seemed to dissolve leaving behind a cold and stagnant conversation between a soldier and her superior, nothing more. Arthur’s chest ached as he pushed on, relaying the mission to her. He wanted to tell her the truth, that he was worried for her, that he wasn’t ready for her to go, that he wanted her to stay here where it was somewhat safe. But he simply could not.

“Listen to me knight, I’m well aware that you’re risking your life going into the Institute blind. Just keep your mind on the mission, and don’t let anything they say sway you from your duty. Good luck.” He nodded.

“Thank you, Arthur.” She spoke lightly, so only the two of them could hear. His eyes locked onto her, he didn’t know what to say.

Ingram interrupted their charged silence, yelling over the whirring of machines, “Let’s see, relays dialed in, beam emitters warmed up, everything looks great. Let me start scanning for the signal. Cross your fingers. I’m inputting the code now.”

The beam emitter charge up with buzz, Ingram continued, “Wow there’s a heck of a lot of interference and ghosting. Its gonna take a minute or two to lock in. By the way, this little trip your taking is a heck of an opportunity to find out as much as we can about the Institute and what they’re up to. I put a clever little program on this holotape that’ll scan their network and download anything it finds. If you place it in any terminal down there it’ll do the rest. Bring it back to me and I’ll see if I can make sense of whatever it found.”

Ingram paused, tapping on a dial, trying to get an accurate reading, “Well, well, looks like we have a winner RF wave capture complete, ramping the emitter, 60 percent, 80 percent, emitter spiking but steady. All that’s left is to throw the transmit switch. Transmitting in three, two, one… Stay safe soldier.”

The last thing she saw as the signal interceptor took hold was Arthurs bold blue eyes, those eyes spoke volumes. In those eyes she saw love, worry, and an unspoken apology. But before she could say anything to him, any reassuring word, her world turned into blue sparks and swirls. The floor disappeared beneath her feet. She was floating, or so it seemed. Her body tingled and the readings on her power armor were going haywire. A peace set over her as a floor materialized beneath her feet, she had made it in one piece.

But the Institute was eerily silent. No guards, no protectrons, nobody. She feared for the worst. She feared she had walked right into a trap.


	9. Goodbye

Chapter Nine: Goodbye

All she could do was run. She relayed out of the institute hitting the ground with a wildly ungraceful thud. She ripped her helmet off, her blonde hair spilling around her face, and she gulped for air. It was suffocating down there; the walls were closing in on her. She was unsure if it was because of the underground facility with all of its artificial sunlight and artificial air, or if it was because of Shaun.

When she raced in, seeing him in that small cubical, her heart skipped a beat. Her journey had come to an end and there he was standing in front of her. But when he was shut down with a single silly phrase, his head slumping forward she could have died. It was as if everything was taken from her all over again. That was not her boy, but instead a cruel Institute made abomination, a synth.

She ran, ran towards Sanctuary, towards the only piece of home she had left in this awful, twisted world.

Of course she had convinced Doctor Madison Li to return to the Brotherhood, but that was nothing compared to the bombshell Iliana was dealt while down there in that sterile nightmare. Shaun was alive, but he was not the sweet baby she had once held, or even the bright eyed boy she had seen in Kellogg’s memories, but instead an old man. A mother’s greatest dream was to see their baby grow up, but not like this, no never like this. Her whole body shook. She couldn't go back to Maxson and speak those words to him, she couldn't bare it.

What if he blamed her, what if she was somehow compromised as a result?

She sauntered over the bridge into Sanctuary, Preston Garvey giving her a quick salute and then approaching.

He noticed she certainly looked worn down, "What's that Brotherhood doing to you? You look like a wreck." He was only half joking when he said this.

"Well it’s nice to see you too, Preston." She feigned a smile. "We made it to the Institute."

"That's great!" Preston beamed. "Where is Shaun? Was he there? Did you find him?"

"Yea, I did. Long story short he is staying there. It’s far more complicated than I care to explain now." Iliana said, rubbing her temples, trying to stave off a splitting head ache.

"Ok, ok. We can talk about that later. While you’ve been gone we have managed to establish some trade routes between some of our larger settlements and farms, Graygarden, and that ghoul farm." Preston chattered, staying on Iliana’s heels as she walked down the road towards her house.

"You mean the Slog." She asked, enjoying the mild distraction.

"That's the one. So far, so good. We need to get down to Hangman’s Alley to set up some additional defenses. Man, raiders just love that place. They’ve been hit three times in the past month. It’s gotten out of hand, we need to send those raiders running for the hills."

She stopped at her front door, "Will do Preston. See if Sturges can get a crew together and get down there to set up some serious security. When he's done I will head down there for a little target practice. But for now, I need some time... just to myself. Thank you for all your hard work, Preston. If you need me I will be up the hill."

Preston nodded in silent understanding. She was going back to the vault.

Iliana opened the door to her house, quickly closing it behind her, taking a deep breath as she did so. Her head was spinning, and she could hardly breathe in her armor. There was only one person she needed to talk to right now, only one person that could help her.

Codsworth came around the corner, "Good evening, mum. I take it your trip went well, seeing as you've returned in one piece and all."

Why did people want to talk to her right now, she just wanted silence, "It went fine, Codsworth." She grumbled and headed towards the hall.

"Oh and, mum. If you’re going to keep a filthy dog I must insist that he remain outside, with your permission of course. The mangy mutt continues to bring in trash and.... and dead things. Just the other day I nearly burst out of my metal when I saw him tearing up a radroach on the carpet. On the carpet of all places, mum, can you believe it!"

Iliana had tuned him out at this point; she stood frozen in the door way of Shaun’s room. A room forgotten by time. His crib stood in the corner, just where she had left it when the bombs fell. She had repaired holes in the roof and walls, cleaning and restoring what she could, until it nearly resembled a nursery of a by-gone era.

Her heart ached in her chest. She would never rock her baby to sleep, never lay him in his crib, mobile spinning silently overhead. This room looked as if she would be bringing him home any day now. But the truth was, he would never come home, and he would never be her baby. This room merely mocked her now, some kind of twisted joke. All she had left from life before the war was this damn house and this damn robot.

"Have you found Master Shaun? Shall I prepare for his homecoming, mum?" Codsworth asked cautiously. His AI telling him the time for happy chit chat was over.

"No, Codsworth. He won't be coming home." Iliana snapped out of her trance and turned into her room.

"My sincerest apologies. I will leave you to grieve." The robot mumbled and then hovered back down the hall.

Peace at last. Iliana took her power armor off, finally feeling like she could breathe again. She stretched her arms and twisted her back; her body always seemed to feel stiff after spending awhile crammed into that metal monstrosity.

She went to her closet, or at least what was left of it, and carefully spun an ancient dial on an ancient safe. Three left, zero right, eight left again, the date her and Nate married, she could feel the tumblers click into place. The door creaked open revealing an array of random items. She gingerly pulled out an old, rusted metal tin. Tucking it under her arm, she closed the safe, and started for the vault.

The vault was eerily silent and empty, save for the dead. She started down the hall, visions of their panicked check in flooding her mind. This was the first time she had been back here since the day she walked into this new life. The worn floor creaked as she walked; passing the rooms and corridors that once bustled with the busy vault tech staff and the terrified denizens of Sanctuary, her friends and neighbors, now were all gone.

She marched down the hall, Cryopods lining the walls. This was where her journey began, and where Nate’s ended. Iliana stared at his face, frozen in time. His warm brown hair glistening with ice, his eyes closed peacefully.

"Hello, love. I'm sorry I've been gone for so long." She stroked the cold unfeeling glass with her fingers, delicately as if it would shatter.

Iliana sat against the base of him icy coffin, pulling the metal tin into her lap and gently popping open the lid. She pulled out a handful of pictures, dusty, worn, and faded, but still surprisingly visible.

She brushed dust off of the first picture, tracing the faces delicately. Two smiling faces peered back at her, they seemed almost like strangers to her now. Nate in his dress uniform, Iliana clad in an intricate white lace gown, her golden curls pinned up expertly.

"You know, this was the best day of my life. I could have danced with you forever." She spoke softly to her silent partner. "I was so hung up on all the little details, it seems so silly now. I guess the shade of blue on the table linens never really mattered. But you put up with me anyway, telling me that no one would actually remember that they were dark blue and not navy blue." She laughed lightly to herself.

"You were right you know. There's no one around now to remember that nonsense"

She picked up another photo. The couple smiled gleefully in front of the Eiffel tower, she couldn't remember who had taken it. "Our honeymoon, in Paris…" She sighed. "After all Paris was for lovers and we were in love. It was beautiful. I don't even know if Paris is for anything anymore. The state I have found our home in, Nate, has me wondering what kind of horrors the rest of the world holds. Is the tower still there? Does anyone even remember the significance of it? Or is it just another artifact lost to time."

The next photo had her breath caught in her throat; the couple was in a hospital room. Iliana lay propped up in the bed, a terrible blue gown covering her. Nate stood beaming, hovering over her. In her arms lay her newborn son, all pink skin and fuzzy brown hair.

"I was so terrified when Shaun was born. Part of me wasn't ready for this new chapter of our lives. I didn't know if I was actually ready to really settle down and live the suburban dream. I was so scared about what kind of mother I would be, but you constantly reassured me, kept me at ease. He was so sweet, the perfect baby as far as I was concerned. He had your eyes you know." She shivered recalling those eyes; not Nate’s eyes on her baby, but instead his eyes on an elderly man.

"This time I have spent, here without you has been hard." She whispered, tears welling in her eyes.

"The world is an entirely different and difficult place. People are starved and damaged, holding onto some strange semblance of life. There are terrible creatures, many who would no sooner swallow you whole than look at you. But some of these creatures, irradiated and falling apart are just as human as you or I. I've had the pleasure of making some friends in this crazy world, but I still feel overwhelmingly alone sometimes. This world is unlike anything I could have come up with in my wildest nightmares."

"I've built an army, more like a crude militia, really. But I’m helping them bring life and hope to these sad people, my people. You would laugh at me, but after all of the terrible things I said about the military while you were enlisted I have found myself taking up arms with them, they're my brothers and sisters, nearly the only family I have here."

"I've burned a path through these wastes trying to avenge your death, trying to find our son, to find Shaun. And I've found him, Nate. Not the babbling baby he once was, but an elderly man who has locked himself in a sterile underground facility. Hoarding food and medicine and technology for himself. He’s scared and selfish. And I find myself wondering is he even really our boy anymore? I was afraid I would be a stranger to him, but as it turns out he knows everything about me. Truthfully, Shaun has become a stranger to me."

Her silent partner listened on. The dead made great listeners, but they weren't very good at giving advice.

"I doubt you would recognize this person I've become. I've done what I've had to do to survive this desolate depraved wasteland. And somewhere along the line you started to fade from my memory, a lot like these old pictures." She scoffed, releasing the photos from her hands, setting them back into their box.

"Hell I hardly recognize who I've become. But I can't keep living in the past like this if I want to survive, and I _have_ to survive. The time we had together, however short it was, was fantastic. You were fantastic. I couldn't have asked for more in a husband, in a friend, and in a father to our child. I will always cherish our time together, but it’s like a fairytale, taking place in a different land far, far away from here."

Iliana plucked the gold band off her finger and placed it in the box with the photos. She stood, opening his cryopod. His body slumped there, lifeless and still. He was just as handsome as they day they met even in his frozen stillness. She placed the box at his feet.

"I love you Nate. And I always will. But it’s time for me to go. To move on in this life."

A breeze blew gentle through the motionless facility. Was it acceptance, she wondered, a silent goodbye perhaps.

Closing the lid to the pod, putting him to rest for the last time, she smiled, "thank you."


	10. New Beginnings

Chapter ten: New Beginnings

Maxson had yet to hear anything of his Knight sent off to slay their foe. He was panicked, certain that he had sent her to her death through that damn relay. When Proctor Ingram informed him they had picked up readings from Iliana's pip-boy he felt mildly relieved. But why hadn't she returned to the Brotherhood, to him?

Her tracking signal was picked up near Sanctuary then had inexplicably gone off grid again. He had to find her.

Maxson promptly boarded a Vertibird for the settlement, hoping to find answers, and Iliana in one piece. After landing he rushed towards a defense checkpoint, set up quite well for a commonwealth town. A man in a heavy coat and brimmed hat approached him, laser rifle pointed and ready to fire.

"What business do you have in Sanctuary?" He bellowed, closing the distance in confident steps.

Maxson noted several other citizens of the community hovered around, armed and ready. Tensions seemed high, leaving Maxson wondering what were they expecting or waiting for.

"I'm not here to cause any problems. Elder Maxson of the Brotherhood of Steel. I am looking for a Knight that may have wandered into your settlement."

"Oh, Brotherhood of Steel, huh? He's good," he yelled back to his waiting forces, who returned to their business about town. "That's a pretty impressive bird you got there. The name's Preston Garvey, Colonel of the Minutemen." He lowered his weapon and approached the wary elder.

Arthur had heard of the Minutemen, they had made pretty good strides in securing livable conditions for the people of the commonwealth. But what was this rag tag group of farmers and merchants turned soldiers doing with his Knight.

Preston sensed his confusion, "I take it you're looking for the good General."

"I'm looking for one of our Knights, Colonel Garvey."

"Just Preston, man. We're not as formal as you Brotherhood types. And our General and your Knight are one in the same." He beckoned for Maxson to follow.

Arthur was shocked, Iliana had built up this militia which was spreading like wildfire throughout the Commonwealth. She had really accomplished so much before even coming to the Brotherhood.

"She showed up here, earlier in the evening. There were some pretty crazy lights when she showed up, you should have seen it." He chatted. The man was quite friendly, but Arthur was anxious to get to the point.

Preston continued, "She went up the hill, to the vault. I don't really know what for, but I kinda stopped asking questions when it comes to her, cause she's pretty much going to do what she wants."

"Where is that, show me." Maxson ordered frantically surveying the village.

"Just up there." Preston motioned to a small clearing between two houses. Maxson could make out a narrow overgrown path.

"Thank you." He said, taking off towards the path.

He saw her at the top of the hill, her hair glowing in the sunlight like some kind of angelic figure as she walked out of the compound's gates.

"Thank god." He breathed. He ran up to her, his steps strong, fast, and urgent.

She seemed surprised but happy to see him, "Arthur, what are you doing here?"

He grabbed her, pulling her small frame into him, burying his face into those shining curls. She smelled wonderful, like sweet flowers. She held him back, wrapping her arms around his waist. They stood for a moment, lost in the embrace, the silence speaking volumes.

"I thought I had-I mean we, had lost you." His voice shaking.

She placed her hand over his pounding heart and placed a soft chaste kiss on his lips, "You didn't lose me. But we do have much to discuss, it would seem."

He stepped back, his cheeks warm, his body responding quickly to her touch. "Yes of course, we'll go back to the Prydwen and discuss your findings."

Truthfully there was only one thing he wanted to discuss with her. While she was gone he was unable to quash his feelings about her. His mind anguished for days, hoping to hear something, but struggling with the idea that he hadn't. Something deep within him ached to make those feelings evident. And even if she had rejected him during their last meeting alone, even if she rejected him again, he needed her to know.

Iliana started back down the hill towards Sanctuary. Save for her issue at the Institute her mind was surprisingly clear for the first time in, what felt like, ages. She had accepted the end of that chapter of her life. No matter how hard she fought she would never be able to bring Nate back. When she accepted that, the weight of the world, or at least what was left of the world, had lifted off her shoulders. She was calm, collected, and ready to carry on in her journey. She was changed, different now than she had been. She had traded in her apron and dainty sun dresses for power armor and a rifle for once and all, and she felt at home with that fact.

As they walked silently down the hill, words were caught in Maxson's throat. What could he possibly say to her, with only one thing on his mind, he pondered. Maxson continued to sneak glances at the Knight, the General, the vault dweller, the love of his life on their walk back to the waiting Vertibird.


	11. Together

Chapter Eleven: Together

Iliana agreed to meet Maxson for her report on the Institute. She didn't know how she could tell him about Shaun, Father, the man responsible for the spread of the synth scourge throughout the Commonwealth. She didn't even know if she should tell him. The unnerving possibilities of their meeting swam about her mind making her wildly perturbed. Surely he would understand that she had no idea, she was unsure, but tried to convince herself none the less. After depositing her badly beaten power armor for repair she made her way to Maxson's quarters.

Holding her head high, trying to stay positive and hopeful, she knocked at his door. Here goes nothing, she thought, as he greeted her with a genuine smile, beckoning her to enter.

Iliana walked in, and slumped her worn body into her favorite spot. She took a deep breath, preparing to try and explain everything to him.

"Before I tell you anything I want you to know that my loyalty to the Brotherhood, to you, is unwavering and-"

He abruptly cut her off "before we get to that there is something else I need to discuss with you."

Just breath, Arthur thought to himself. He felt nervous, worried even. Of all pressures in his life as Elder, this was by far the worst he had ever grappled with. His feelings, he laughed inwardly, of course they would be the hardest thing to deal with.

She looked eagerly at him, her blue eyes shining brilliantly in the soft amber light of his room. Her legs tucked under her petite frame on the couch. She wasn't sure what could possibly be more important than infiltrating the Institute.

"There is something I need to say, Iliana. Something that feels almost foreign to me, something I've never said to anyone."

Her heart raced, while his felt like it was in his throat. There was a strange tangible kind of electricity filling the room.

"I'm shattering every boundary in the book. You see... somehow you've manage to get under my skin... in the best possible way. Truthfully, I've always noticed that there was something about you, something different, something enchanting. But it wasn't until that nightmare after Fort Strong that I realized I couldn't lose you. Not just as a Knight or an asset to the Brotherhood, but as-" he hesitated, finding the right words. "As someone I care about. Deeply, in fact."

He began pacing the small room, "and then that damned kiss. I thought I'd blown it, crossed some line that would leave you running from me. Every second you were gone at the Institute was too long. It was an eternity to me. And I realize your feelings for your husband are paramount to anything else, but I can't just keep going on pretending that this is nothing anymore."

"Arthur-" she tried to interject.

He put his hand up, stopping her, "please, I need to finish. I've been playing over these words in my head, unsure exactly how to tell you, hell, unsure how to tell myself. But honestly I can't seem to find the right words. I guess what I'm trying to say is I think I've fallen in love with you, Iliana. I love you more than I've ever loved anything. You've managed to posses me and I can't-"

He stopped, and looking at her she had stood from her perch on the couch. Her cheeks visibly red, her hand twisting the curls on the side of her face. He had made her uncomfortable, he was certain.

"I'm sorry, I just had to get that off my chest." He sighed.

Iliana walked towards him, her expression nearly unreadable. But when she gingerly placed her hand on the side of his face, a kind of peace settled over her, he guessed his words were well received to some degree.

She kissed him, with a kind of desperate longing that he hadn't expected. Her tongue, warm and moist, urging his mouth to surrender to her. He gave in, pulling her closer, placing his hands on her hips, those bewitching curves. He needed her and his body hardened and ached in response.

Arthur lifted her up, cradling her in his arms. Their kiss, gentle but urgent, continued as he moved towards his bed.

Her kisses fluttered, feather soft across his cheek, landing on his ear lobe. She gently sucked on the soft skin there. Shivers shooting down his spine, he laid her gently on the bed, on his bed.

She pulled back, whispering softly, her warm breath tickling his ear, "make love to me, Arthur."

With that single sentence his body seemed to ignite, ready to bury himself inside her. He slowly pulled the zipper of her flight suit down, nothing but soft silken skin underneath. His hands grazed every inch of her as he pulled the suit away, leaving her gloriously naked atop his bed.

Her stomach was in knots, or was it butterflies, she wasn't sure. But she wasn't going to stop, not this time. Her hands made quick work of the buckles and straps of his coat and shirt, tossing them in a heap somewhere on the floor. Her hand ran across his chest, and over his shoulders. Iliana's nails gently sliding over his back, tracing delicate trails as they went. Her fingers raced along the muscles there, memorizing, savoring, until she made her way to the buckle of his pants. She could feel the fabric pulled taut with his arousal.

He wasn't going to let her move on easily, he wanted her wet and ready for him. His hand snaked between her thighs, parting the hot flesh there and sinking deftly, skillfully into her core. He had imagined this so many times it was as if he already knew every curve of her body.

She moaned softly, arching in to his hand as he worked it in and out. She still stubbornly fumbled with his pants, trying but failing. Arthur quickened his pace, leaning over her, chest to chest, as she began to tighten around his fingers.

"Come for me." He whispered in her ear, knowing she was getting close. She cried out, falling over the edge, her body tensed and shook. Her breath becoming raspy and quick as the crest built and then crashed over her.

Arthur stood, dropping his pants to the floor. He returned to his position on top of her. Running his hands over her thighs, pausing a moment at the scar from Fort Strong, before spreading her legs open. She glistened in the soft glow of the room, beckoning for him to take her. He dipped his fingers between her legs again, savoring the welcoming moisture he found there.

She had ridden out her aftershocks and was ready for him, so ready. She wrapped a leg around his waist, trying to pull him into her, "please..." she sighed.

He slowly pushed himself into her, agonizing heat all around him. She was slick and soft and ready, and oh god did he love it. She moaned when the full length of him was inside her. He filled her perfectly, making her body hum and her heart pound.

He pumped his hips slowly. Felling every stroke, in and out. Her hands skimmed his back, tracing with her nails again. He leaned down, running kisses along the bottom of breasts, before taking a perfectly pink nipple into his mouth. He sucked softly, swirling his tongue about the round bud as her nails bit into the flesh of his back.

He moved into her faster, knowing that soon he would be unable to fight back his mounting orgasm. Sweat began to gather on his brow.

"Don't stop." She whispered pushing her hips into him. Arthur kissed her, urging her lips to part, his tongue diving in, savoring the taste and heat of her mouth. She bit his lip, tugging lightly, her breathing becoming quicker.

He moved with more urgency as they both climbed higher and higher. She tightened around him, all slick hot skin. Iliana wrapped her arms tightly around him, calling out his name, pushing against him. His breathing stopped, caught in his throat as he pushed in deeper, before spilling into her. He collapsed on her, their breathing in sync, their hearts beating as one.

Iliana gingerly kissed the side of his face, his beard rough against her skin. And they lay there a moment, in some kind of post-coital glow. The room warm, hot even from their love making. He kissed her forehead, breathing her in. Perfect, he thought, his breath finally slowing. He could stay like this forever.

It's very possible they could have stayed like that forever if it wasn't for a powerful knock on the door.

"Shit." Maxson muttered, pulling himself off of his lover. "Hold on!" He yelled.

Iliana thought quick, trying to figure out what to do. What would happen if someone saw her like this, naked in the Elder's bed. What would her brothers and sisters say? Another urgent knock echoed through the small room. So she did the only thing she could think of. She rolled off the bed, fitting herself between the bed and the wall.

No time for clothes Arthur wrapped himself in a sheet and ran for the door, seeing Iliana had hid herself he assumed everything would be fine.

He opened the door, slowly, calculatingly; trying not the let whoever the hell it was see more than they needed to.

It was Danse. "I'm sorry to bother you, Maxson. I heard Anderson's back, but I can't seem to find her anywhere. I was anxious to hear about the..." he trailed off, noticing a balled up flight suit on the floor.

Maxson quickly realized what had Danse distracted, "she was to report to me for debriefing after getting settled and dropping her gear off for repair. I'll let her know you are looking for her...um, when I see her.

Danse continued awkwardly, "debriefing, I see... well thank you for passing along the message."

"Of course, Paladin." Arthur responded then closed the door.

Iliana peaked up from the edge of the bed, "I guess that's my cue to leave."

Arthur smiled, staring at her, staring at the beautiful woman who stole his heart, "as much as I hate the idea, you're probably right."


	12. Loyalties

Chapter Twelve: Loyalties

Iliana braced herself against the walls of the shower. Her legs still weak from the night before. The memory of their time together made her skin warm and tingle. Her core throbbed and ached for an encore. She took a deep breath trying to quiet her erotic daydreams. After all she had people to meet with and she couldn’t very well spend all day in Elder Maxson’s bed, now could she?

She toweled off. Zipping up her flight suit, she tried to regain some semblance of composure and decorum.

Proctor Ingram was expecting her, she was sure. Iliana had downloaded information from the Institute onto the network scanner she was given. If anyone was able to make heads or tails of the information it would be her.

She made her way down the corridors of the Prydwin, trying to keep her focus on the task at hand.

"Anderson, hold up." It was Danse. His power armor clanked loudly as he rushed to catch up with her.

"Morning, Danse." She smiled.

"Good morning indeed, I presume. I think we have some things to discuss." He looked at her, disapproval plastered across his face.

She tried to distract him, "oh yea. I bet you’re dying to hear about the Institute. You wouldn't believe that place, it’s probably the cleanest facility in the entire Wasteland."

Iliana was abruptly silenced as Danse pulled her in between two large storages containers, he peaked around the corner ensuring that no one could hear what he was about to say.

"I know I was after you to take your position at the Brotherhood seriously. I didn't think you would take me so literally. What exactly do you think you’re playing at?"

"Danse. I don't know-" she stammered through her words, trying to dream up some kind of excuse or logical explanation. Nothing came to her.

"Spare me your excuses. What the hell is going on between you and Maxson?" Danse spat, his anger palpable.

Iliana pushed her hair off her face and sighed, "I don't even know what to say, Danse. I have no explanation for how this happened, but somehow it did. Somehow feelings happened, powerful feelings, feelings that couldn't be stopped. Feelings that are more than physical. This has nothing to do with the Brotherhood, this is about two people." The words felt strange on her tongue, but she liked them.

"But when one of those people is the Elder of the Brotherhood of Steel, then it becomes about so much more. I'm thankful that I had misjudged the situation, but tread carefully, soldier. There’s so much more involved than you think. This is the last time I want to speak to you about this; I expect you will behave respectably."

"Of course. Well... that's quite enough of that. I need meet with Proctor Ingram about a holotape."

"Carry on, soldier. Ingram is expecting you. We can discuss the Institute another time." Danse said before walking off, leaving Iliana overwhelmed about the potential implications of this newfound relationship.

Proctor Ingram, ever eager for new information, was thrilled at Iliana’s return.

“Here’s your holotape, Proctor. I hope it was worth it.” Iliana said, sluggishly handing over the tape.

“Thanks. You know, it’s good to see you’re still in one piece. I wasn’t sure what the interceptor would do to you.”

Iliana chuckled surprised by her confession, “You didn’t expect me to survive the trip?” She had been so caught up in everything before the relay that the thought, though it had crossed her mind, was not her top concern.

“A device like the signal interceptor is way out of my league. I was hoping you’d make it, but I find it tough to have faith in technology I don’t understand. Speaking of technology I don’t understand, I’ll get this holotape to Proctor Quinlan. I’m dying to find out what’s on it.” Ingram fanned the tape about excitedly.

“What do you hope to find on there?” Iliana suddenly worried about her connection to the Institute. What kind of information would they find about her on that holotape?

“Whatever the Institute doesn’t want anybody to know. Before we jump to conclusions, let’s see what Quinlan’s scribes can get off of it. I’m sure the Institute has all of their data heavily encrypted, so it’s going to take some time to crack. After that, we’ll have to see what we’ve got. There’s no telling what we might have grabbed off their mainframe. In the meantime I’ve got a new assignment for you. “

Ingram discussed the Brotherhood’s latest project and exactly why they needed the expertise of Doctor Li. A weapon that would be instrumental in turning the tables on the Institute. A walking, talking weapon capable of mass destruction. Liberty Prime. Even seeing the mechanical giant in pieces, strewn about the workshop proved to be somewhat intimidating. Iliana was surprised to see a piece of technology that was nonexistent in her time. She was instructed that she would be tasked with helping in the efforts of Prime’s restoration to further their chances of victory against the Institute.

All this talk of the Institute left Iliana remembering she had yet to tell Maxson anything. She knew she had to, lest he find out through other means. She was nervous as the Vertibird carried her back to the Prydwen, the wind rushing about wildly making it hard to breathe, hard to think. She took a moment, after they docked, to try to run through what to tell Arthur. She didn't want this to hurt him; she hurt enough for them both. Unfortunately their evening together had quickly complicated matters.

“It’s good to see you, Iliana.” Maxson stated, his face beaming. “I received word that Doctor Li is returning to us. How cooperative do you think she’ll be?”

Iliana smiled at him, her heart fluttering lightly, “I’ve convinced her that the Institute is the enemy not the Brotherhood.”

“Well done, Knight. As soon as Doctor Li arrives, we’ll interrogate her aboard the Prydwen. She’s been under the inst influence for the last decade, and we can’t afford to take any chances. Now, on to other matters. Thanks to the success of your reconnaissance efforts, it’s time to advance our operations to the next phase.”

Arthur paused, staring at Iliana, he noted she seemed slightly uncomfortable, but he thought nothing of it, “I assume Proctor Ingram has already introduced you to Liberty Prime? He’ll prove to be one of the single most influential elements in winning this war.”

"Arthur. The implications of our victory against the Institute are so much more...complex than originally thought." Iliana sat awkwardly on the edge of a worn sofa on the command deck. She couldn't seem to get comfortable, not just in her seat but with her son’s identity.

"What do you mean? We have Doctor Li, we can resume building our primary weapon of attack against the Institute. There’s very limited complexity. We find a way in and take those metal abominations by surprise. They won't know what hit them."

"The head of the Institute, a man they call Father, well as it turns out... he’s my son."

"Your son!" Arthur exclaimed. "I thought your son was just a boy. How? I can't believe this. Of course the Institute would infiltrate our ranks. I was foolish to assume that I was immune from their attacks up here."

Iliana stood suddenly staring at him coldly, "I had no idea. You have to believe me. This news shattered my world, Arthur. I have shed blood, sweat, and tears to find him and-"

"And what, now that you have?" He interjected. “Will you join him in his siege against humanity? What am I supposed to think, Iliana? I trusted you, I poured my heart out to you, I bedded you. And you kept this from me." Arthur was ashamed he had been duped so easily. Of course, she was an Institute operative, that's the only way to explain how she managed to work her way up the ranks so easily. It’s the only way to explain how she made easy work of him. Arthur slid down into the couch across from her, shock beginning to set in.

"No. I’d never betray your trust, not intentionally. I can’t join this man, I won’t, he may be my blood, but his cruelty and selfishness prove that he’s not my son." She kneeled in front of him and grabbed his face, forcing him to look at her. Tears burned in her eyes, she had just found him, just let him in, and she couldn't lose him. Not now, not when the road in front of her was filled with wicked twists and turns.

"Please Arthur," her voice gentle and cautious, she had to convince him. "I tried to tell you last night. I told you that my loyalties to the Brotherhood, to you especially, were unwavering. I wanted you to know, but we got so wrapped up in other... topics. I intend to do whatever it takes to make this right." She took a deep breath, the words burning in her throat, "I will end the Institute."

He looked at her, his expression easing slightly, "No more secrets, Ili, please. I can't take anymore. The Institute, the Minutemen, nothing else."

Arthur knew she had to be hurting, he couldn't even imagine what was running through her mind. He recalled their conversation from the night before, and she was right. She had tried to tell him something, something about loyalty, but he had quieted her to deliver his own kind of report. He was still unsure though, just how much could he really trust her? He had to know, beyond the shadow of a doubt, where here loyalties really were.


	13. Betrayal

Chapter thirteen: Betrayal

Iliana had been recruited by Ingram to head the restoration of Liberty Prime. As a result she had spent less and less time aboard the Prydwen and more time gallivanting the wastes with Paladin Danse. Arthur found himself agitated and on edge, his jealousy of Danse continued to grow with each passing day. Every word he had spoken to Iliana since discovering her ties to the Institute was distant. The time they spent together was shorter, less feeling than it had once been. And he hated himself for it, but he couldn't risk being compromised as far as the mission was concerned. He kept her, but he kept her at a distance.

Arthur stood on the foredeck, a sniper rifle fixed against the rail. He peered through the scope, watching the pair, Iliana and Danse, depart from the airport. They were laughing about something. But what, he wondered. His face burned and his lips had sunken into a sour kind of scowl. He knew that Danse lived and breathed for the Brotherhood, and that he shouldn't be jealous of the Paladin. But ultimately He was jealous of their congeniality, and their friendly laughs. He hadn't felt secure enough around her to let his guard down in days and it was wearing away at him. He missed her laugh, her voice, welcoming and effervescent. He missed her lips, soft and warm, her body, tantalizing and irresistible.

He cursed under his breath, putting the rifle back into a crate nearby. He couldn't keep doing this to himself. He pulled a flask out of his coat pocket. Throwing it back, savoring the burn as the whiskey traveled down his throat. This was the only sensation he had been familiar with lately.

And worse yet doctor Li had informed him that Liberty Prime would require his nuclear arms in order to return to its fully functioning condition. There was only one stockpile that they knew of. Ingram and Doctor Li had just sent Iliana back to the Glowing Sea. And even though she had traversed it before, no amount of familiarity could prepare anyone for the horrors that lie in that irradiated nightmare.

Arthur made his way back up to the command deck. The ship buzzed with life, everyone seemed to be excited about resurrection of Liberty Prime, trading tales of his prior victory in the Capitol Wasteland. Victory was becoming a reality and the crew was reinvigorated by their progress. But Iliana had been right; the Brotherhood’s victory against the Institute had become much more complex. Not only had her familial influences impacted things, but his plans were becoming fuzzy and confusing.

Arthur knew that their win would return him to the Capitol, to the Citadel. But what would come of, however momentarily strained, his relationship with Iliana. Would she come back with him, would she even want to? What about her Minutemen? Would he be able to set up a permanent Brotherhood of Steel presence in the Commonwealth? Would the council even allow it, would they allow her? He knew he would eventually need an heir, would she be the one to provide that? His head spun as he stared out the large windows over the commonwealth. When the dust settled around him he was determined to reach out to the council to discuss his plans.

"A word, Maxson." It was Proctor Ingram.

He had been so lost in thought he hadn't heard her approach. He turned to address her, his arms behind his back, his chest pushed out. He couldn't let his crew see him as anything less than their powerful confident leader. There were few exceptions, Paladin Danse for example, had seen the Elder struggle with the weight of his position. Danse had always been a pleasant pillar of friendship through the years.

"Proctor Quinlan and I have managed to decipher the encrypted data Knight Anderson plucked off the Institute. There’s some pretty awful information on there. I didn't even know if we should share it right away. So Quinlan ran some tests. He checked, double checked, and triple checked." Ingram tried to drag the news out, she was clearly distressed.

Arthur was growing impatient, "to the point, Ingram, please." He sighed. This would just be another problem to add to his list, he was sure.

"Well, as it turns out, one of those juicy pieces of information was a list of all known synths and their human aliases complete with DNA catalogs. Naturally we were pretty excited to dive in so we could start wiping out the synth threat. We discovered, with a heavy heart, that a synth by the designation M7-97 has infiltrated our ranks."

Arthur’s heart was in his throat, he half expected it to be Iliana. After all that would only make sense, since she had appeared out of nowhere, had ways of knowing things or finding them out, was supernaturally resourceful, extremely charismatic, and one hell of a fighter.

"What is this synth’s alias, Ingram?" Arthur finally spoke.

"Paladin Danse, sir. We crossed checked his DNA sample against the information from the Institute numerous times, like I said, each test coming back the same. Our Danse is their M7-97."

Iliana was out alone with him traveling the Glowing Sea. Was she in danger, he wondered, panic grabbing hold. He couldn't believe he had been so foolish. He knew it had been a terrible idea to send her out there. He should have sent someone with more experience, someone who was more... disposable than her.

His head spun, or maybe it was the room. Who was he kidding; his whole life had quickly become a centrifuge of fucked up in just a matter of days.

They stood there on the command deck, an eerie silence setting over them. Ingram shifted uncomfortably, awaiting Arthur’s response. But Arthur was at a loss for words; his closest friend in the Brotherhood had been the enemy all along. And then it clicked. It suddenly made sense why Danse and Iliana had become such fast friends; the creator of the creator, and the creation itself. He couldn't handle the amount of betrayal that was ripping through his life. He had to regain control. He had to send a message.

"I will have it taken care of. Speak to no one about this Proctor Ingram, I don’t want to ensue chaos at the moment. Danse will be made an example of. We will not accept this filth as equal, as human. And any synth sympathizers will be dealt with just as swiftly. This is wasteland justice, and we must be the judge, jury, and executioners."

"Ad Victorium!" Ingram cried in agreement.

Ad Victorium, indeed Arthur thought. He would gain control of the Brotherhood once more. And as far as Iliana was concerned, he had an idea how he could figure out where her loyalties really were.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N So sorry for the delay, summer semester has been kicking my butt and I have had to seriously focus!


	14. Betrayed

Chapter Fourteen: Betrayed

Iliana sat inside the whirring metal Vertibird, her mind drifting uncomfortably back to the Institute. With Liberty Prime’s nuclear stash secured they would soon end this war once and for all. And she would have to make a critical decision about her son. She knew what had to be done, beyond a shadow of a doubt, but she didn't know if she would be capable of it in the end. She had spent countless days running through the Commonwealth to try and create a distraction from her impending decision.  After all, she labored for hours to bring him into the world, and regardless of the situation they found themselves in, he was still her child, her blood. She was being torn in two directions and really could have used Arthur’s reassurance, but he had been less than warm recently.

The bird docked against its larger mother ship and Iliana hopped off. Her power armor clattered on the metal deck. She paused for a moment, pulling off her helmet and setting it on a pile of crates next to her. She lit a cigarette with a quick flick of her gold lighter, inhaling deeply, and staring at the world beneath her. A world that would soon be changed, again. She knew that whatever happened with the Institute it would be up to her to ensure that the Commonwealth would continue to prosper and recover from its battle scars. She exhaled, Smoke swirling up above her head, rushing towards the twinkling heavens.

She walked into the command deck after she had finished, her face looking worn and weary. Arthur looked her up and down calculatingly, analyzing her movements, her expression, her breathing. He was looking for something, some kind of indication of her guilt or innocence. He still wasn't sure whether or not he believed she was working with Danse for the Institute, he knew he didn't want to believe it but it was the only thing that really made sense to him anymore.

When it came to there being a traitor in their midst, he was absolutely livid. Rage clouded his mind like an eerie morning fog. Maxson fought viciously to keep his demons at bay, so he wouldn't do anything monumentally irrational. He feared he would fail, but it wouldn't be for a lack of trying.

Arthur took a deep breath, fighting the urge to overtake her, to bring her down to her knees for her treachery.

"You wanted to speak with me?" She muttered, some kind of emotional wave causing her voice to crack and quiver.

What had happened to her, he questioned. Had the Glowing Sea bested this warrior? Or perhaps her intuition had told her that her time spent with Danse, playing this dangerous game, was running terrifyingly short. Whatever the case for Iliana’s distress, Maxson knew he had to get to the bottom of this betrayal.

“Yes. Is there anything you wanted to tell me, Knight?” He spat, his fury palpable.

Iliana’s brows furrowed in confusion, “Not at all. I have nothing to hide. I’ve told you everything.”

He growled, “I find that very hard to believe… Proctor Quinlan completed the decryption of the data you retrieved from the Institute. A portion of his findings included a list of synths that went missing or escaped from their underground facility. After careful analysis of the information, we’ve discovered something…unprecedented.”

So far in his speech Iliana was still completely confused. He was clearly agitated, and his focus was her but she was unsure why. He seemed ready to strike, like a deadly cobra, eerily poised and watching her every move.

“Paladin Danse is a perfect match for one of the synths on that list.” He sighed sharply, disappointment stuck in his throat like a shard of glass.

“That’s impossible!” Iliana exclaimed. There was absolutely no way he would be a synth, she was sure.

“I’m afraid not. The evidence is quite damning. The data you brought back included a record of each subject’s DNA. We keep the same information on file for all of our soldiers. Paladin Danse’s DNA is a perfect match for a synth they called M7-97. To make matters worse, he’s gone AWOL. Disappeared without a trace. His sudden absence simply reinforces our conclusion that M7-97 and Paladin Danse are one in the same. I’m finding it difficult to believe, with your ties to the Institute, that he never confided in you and then swore you to secrecy.”

“You have to believe me, he never told me he was a synth!” Arthur’s implications were like a knife to her gut, twisting and pained. Panic shone obviously on her face, he would never believe her, not after everything that had happened recently.

He sighed, analyzing her expression again. His harsh gaze softened, perhaps she was right and simply had the worst luck of being in the wrong place at the wrong time once again.

“Hm. Apparently I’ve misjudged you. Which means I’ve decided to take you at your word,” He would allow her to prove herself, but still keep a watchful eye on her, lest she betray his trust again. “However, that doesn’t absolve you of your duty. Danse is a synth. He represents everything we hate… a monstrosity of technology. Our mission in the Commonwealth is clear. The Institute and its creations need to be destroyed in order to preserve our future. Which leaves me facing the most difficult order I’ve ever given.”

Iliana’s eyes were wide with disbelief and anticipation. Arthur took a deep breath and continued, “I’m ordering you to hunt down Danse and execute him.”

“Isn’t there some other way?!” She cried. No, she couldn’t kill him. After everything he had done for her how was she just supposed to pull the trigger and go on with her life?

“Absolutely not. My decision is final. Listen I’m not blind to the fact that Danse was your mentor and this isn’t an easy burden to bear. But if we’re to remain strong, we can’t afford to make exceptions… even when it means executing one of our own. Find Proctor Quinlan. He’s been analyzing the data and should be able to provide you with a starting point. And Knight, there’s a promotion for you riding on the results of these orders, so don’t disappoint me.”

He looked at her and into her blue eyes; they were filled with rage, and darted around the room trying desperately to make sense of what had just happened.

“You’re dismissed.” He said coldly, turning his back on her. He had to brush her off to be safe. Part of him wanted to reach out and grieve with her, to kiss away any tears that fell from those eyes. But he couldn’t, he needed to be in control, he needed to figure her out without compromising himself further.

Her eyes were wide and her heart was racing. What had just happened? There's no way Danse would be a synth, not when he has done so much for the Brotherhood, Iliana thought, absolutely stunned. She become almost numb, her anger and grief failing to pierce her unfeeling armor. She didn’t really know what to think, was he really a synth or was this information a decoy concocted by the Institute to sabotage the Paladin? She needed to talk to someone, but it seemed like her closest companions were becoming strangers to her. Iliana was starting to feel like she was alone in the apocalypse. There had to be someone that could help her sort out the moral implications of her latest commands, someone who had personal experience with synths. Someone who had already proven to be a help to her personal war with the Institute. Detective Nick Valentine.

Iliana could remember when Fenway Park had been full of pristine green grass, bleachers filled with lively fans. The Sox in the last inning, staring down a victory. The memories flooded her eyes every time she stepped in, she could almost hear the cheers and smell hotdogs and popcorn. She never cared much for baseball, but now that Fenway was the thriving metropolis known as Diamond City she nearly missed the sport.

She made her way through the cluttered allies of the city towards the glowing neon sign that proudly read "Valentine Detective Agency". The light caused shadows to jump and bob against the walls of the building, like some kind of haunting waltz. Iliana hoped he was in and not on a case, she needed him to be in. She knocked lightly on the cool metal door.

"Doors open." Nicks voice rang from inside the office. She pushed the door open, a small smile forming on her otherwise worried face.

Nick turned to her, to see who had walked in, "good to see you, kid!" His voice was smooth and sure, like something out of an old radio show she could remember listening to as a child.

"How’ve you been holding up?" He asked, closing the files on his desk. He pulled a chair out, with a loud screech against the floor, and motioned for her to sit.

"Not good, Nick, not good." Iliana sat in the chair offered, and slumped against the side of his desk.

"What's been troubling you, doll?"

"I need a little insight and you're the best synth for the job. I've got a bit of a dilemma involving a synth and I don't know how to handle it."

"Well, if it’s one of those Institute cats, there's only one way to handle it."

"Well that's the thing; this synth doesn't know he's a synth. He was one of the best Paladins in the Brotherhood of Steel. A shining star, really. He's bled steel for as long as he can remember, and has even taken up arms against the Institute. If he's a synth how could he do that? I don't understand." Ili rubbed her brow, clearly strained as she spoke the words aloud.

"A synth in the Brotherhood, huh? Don't tell Piper, she's been itching for a new scoop. These new gen synths blend seamlessly in with humans, so what makes you so sure?"

"I got in, Nick. I found a way into the Institute. While I was in there I managed to secure a holotape of information from their network. They keep extremely detailed records on their synths and escapees. So detailed, in fact, it included dialogued DNA mapping. The Brotherhood Scribes found an exact match to one of our best men, Paladin Danse."

"That was your big metal clad fried, huh? Listen, kid, often times these synths have no idea what they are. They've been given fabricated memories and personalities. If Danse had been fighting with the Brotherhood it’s entirely possible that he has no clue."

Iliana sighed, "Well, I've been asked to uh... terminate him." The words burned in her throat and tasted foul on her tongue.

"Don't let your association with the Brotherhood of Steel cloud your judgment as a human. What do you think needs to be done?"

She thought for a moment, failing to find reason behind her orders, "Nothing. He’s just as human as me... or you, really."

Nick smiled "There you go, doll. I think you've got your answer. The material we are made out of isn't really what makes us human. Instead our capacity for friendship, empathy, and love does."

"You're right. I can't believe I even considered killing him. He's been a loyal friend, and has proven time and time again that his number one priority is the greater good of human kind."

"Right, just talk to him. I'm sure he will lead you to the same conclusion. Oh by the way, did that list mention anything about a certain detective?"

"No." She responded quickly, her mind beginning to travel away from the conversation.

"Good. I've worked hard to stay under the inst radar and I don't intend to pop up anytime soon."

"Well, if I have anything to do with that you won’t. I plan on taking them down.” Iliana’s hands clenched into fists, her nails bit painfully into her palms, but every day with the Institute around her problems seemed to become more and more complicated.

Nick’s face grew solemn, concerned, “It’s for the best, really. Did you ever find your son?”

“Yes.” She paused, unable to find the words, “he’s beyond help.”

“He’s blood, Iliana. Is he really beyond help?” Nick was shocked. He had known this woman to often talk her way out of combat, merely to spare a life or avoid unnecessary violence. Something in her had changed he was sure.

“He is, Nick, he isn’t a baby or even a child anymore. Shaun is an elderly man who happens to be running things at the Institute.”

“Oh wow, well I guess he may be the exception there, huh?”

“Yea… a bit.” She raised her brows, agreeing with him.

“So, kid, I think you know what you need to do. Glad to be on the case.” Nick nudged her arm, reassuringly.

“Thanks Nick, your help means a lot to me.” Iliana spoke, some kind of clarity setting over her. She stood and started towards the door.

“It’s interesting isn’t it? That this war the Brotherhood is fighting with the Institute rivals a war you’re very familiar with. But don’t be a stranger.” Nick spoke hauntingly and turned back to his paper work.

“Yea… thanks again, Nick.” She muttered before leaving the office.

His words ricocheted around her mind. He was right, the same battle a different time. Factions with vastly different views and ways of life fighting because they think they’re right and they’re doing the best for humanity. They would set the world on fire all over again because ultimately war never changes. And in that moment, Iliana vowed to herself that she was going to change that, she was going to fight to be the change this broken and shattered world needed.


	15. Insubordinate

Chapter Fifteen: Insubordinate

The elevator creaked and groaned as it carried her down into the floors below the listening post where she had been told Danse was hiding. Iliana felt like she was merely going through the motions, as if she wasn’t really attached to her body. None of this even felt real to her. The elevator stopped with a thud, the bell dinged, and the doors slid roughly open.

Iliana heard them, the protectrons, rustling nearby. She crouched and moved swiftly behind an old terminal. She quickly eyed them up through the scope of her combat rifle. Fingering the trigger she fired off three rounds with lethal accuracy, two taking out the protectrons, the last taking out a hidden turret on the back wall. As the turret exploded into a cloud of bright sparks and smoke she saw him. Danse had been pacing the backroom in his orange jumpsuit. Their eyes locked for a moment, his face looked shocked and slightly frightened.

She sprinted through the ancient control room into a rocky tunnel hollowed out in the wall. Her heart was racing and she finally felt like she was settling into her body; her skin tingled, and the hair on the back of her neck stood up.

“Danse!” She cried, running through the entryway to the back room, various pieces of trash skittering about her feet as she halted in front of her friend.

He sighed, heavy with grief. Anyone but her, he thought, knowing that Maxson had sent her to remedy this situation. He had called her a friend, but like others in the past this would not play out well, he felt like a curse for those closest to him. He was ashamed of his true identity, he was ashamed that he’d let her down, let Haylen down, let the Brotherhood down.

He couldn’t even look her in the eye, “I’m not surprised Maxson sent you. He never liked to do the dirty work himself.”

“Why didn’t you tell me, Danse?” Her heart ached and tears welled in the corner of her eyes, distorting her vision

“Because I didn’t know. Until Quinlan got that list decoded, I thought synths were the enemy. I never expected to hear that I was one of them. If it wasn’t for Haylen, we wouldn’t even be having this conversation. So what are your orders? Does Maxson even want me alive?” Danse felt the walls closing in around him, both physically and metaphorically. He could hardly breathe. Did he even need to breath, he wondered, after all, he was a machine not a human.

“No, but I’m hoping there’s a way out.”

He couldn’t believe what Iliana was suggesting, he thought she had put her defiant ways behind her. She had seemed like she was really doing better in the Brotherhood, and wasn’t fighting authority like she had been when she first joined. She was risking far too much, even just having this conversation with him. He knew he had taught her better than that.

Finally he spoke, “Don’t be ridiculous. Look, I’m not blind to the fact that we’re good friends and this must be very difficult for you. I wish Maxson had sent someone else.” Anyone else really, he sighed and continued. “But that doesn’t change a thing. I’m a synth, which means I need to be destroyed. If you disobey your orders, you’re not only betraying Maxson, you’re betraying the Brotherhood of Steel and everything it stands for. Synths can’t be trusted. Machines were never meant to make their own decisions, they need to be controlled. Technology that’s run amok is what brought the entire world to its knees and humanity to the brink of extinction. I need to be the example, not the exception.”

“The empathy you’re showing me…it’s a human emotion.” Surely he knew that he was so much more than cold metal and whirring gears, he had to, she needed him to. He needed something to believe in, because suddenly he had nothing left and that made Iliana’s heart break for him.

“I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but I’ve made my decision. I’m ready to accept the consequences of my true identity. Maxson’s ordered you to execute me, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to stand in your way.”  After all, he had come a long way from his junk trader days in Rivet City, if he was even ever actually there. He could embrace what was coming to him knowing he had done some good.

“No. I won’t do it, Danse.” Iliana blinked her tears back and straightened out her shoulders, if he wasn’t going to be strong she would be strong for him.

“I can’t believe you’d risk your life just to keep me alive. Why would you do that for me?”

“I’ve already lost my family. I don’t want to lose my friend.” She wasn’t going to lose anyone else, and she would start her stand to save the Commonwealth here.

“You’re right.” He paused, collecting his thoughts, “How could I have been so blind? I should consider how my death might affect the people that care about me. People like you and Haylen. Perhaps now that you’ve opened my eyes, I can consider my next move.”Some semblance of a smile drifted onto his face.

“Whatever you decide to do, I’ve got your back.”

“Thank you my friend, but I have my own path to follow. The only clear choice is for me to leave the commonwealth. The sooner I make for the border, the sooner I put this behind me. Take my holotags.” He handed her the shiny metal, “Use them to prove that your mission was a success or Maxson will just send someone else to hunt me down. Now come on, let’s get the hell out of here.”He patted her on the back reassuringly. He wasn’t sure what the next chapter would hold for him, but Iliana needn’t worry for him.

The duo boarded the rickety old elevator, the air between them light and filled with relief.

Iliana took a deep breath, “you know, my battle isn’t with synths, not really.” Danse eyed her, “It’s with the head of the Institute, and everything he represents.”

“But I thought he was your son.”

“He was. But synths are people, Danse, just like any of us they had no control over the situations they were born into. So who am I to judge that? I am going to make the Commonwealth safe again, for everyone. I have to. I can’t let another war tear apart what is left of my home, it’s basically all I have left.”

“You’re too good for the Brotherhood, Ili. You’re too good for Maxson.”

Maxson. That was the first time her mind had drifted to him since she set out to find Danse. Her heart was in her throat at the thought of looking him in the eye and lying to him. What if he found out? She hadn’t exactly been on his good side lately.

Dust danced around the rays of sun that peered sheepishly through the boarded windows of the listening post. The air was stale and smelled of dust, but it was better than being crammed in that elevator. Iliana swore she could hear the hum of a Vertibird engine in the distance. Paranoia had its way of rearing its ugly face lately. She shielded her eyes from the sun as she walked outside.

“How dare you betray the Brotherhood.” Maxson bellowed as they exited the building. He stood, arms crossed, icy stare piercing through her very soul, intimidation radiating off of him. The tension was immediately unbearable; Iliana braced herself against to the door frame to keep from running.

“It’s not her fault, it’s mine.” Danse defended.

Staring daggers at him, Maxson spat, “ill deal with you in a moment. Knight! Why is this…this thing not been destroyed?”

Iliana took a deep breath, she had to continue to be strong, “He’s still alive because you wrong about him.” The words just barely eked out of her mouth.

“Him?! Danse isn’t a man, it’s a machine… an automaton created by the Institute. It wasn’t born from the womb of a loving mother, it was grown within the cold confines of a laboratory. Flesh is flesh. Machine is machine. The two were never meant to intertwine. By attempting to play god, the Institute has taken the sanctity of human life and corrupted it beyond measure.” His hands had been curled into fists since he found this place, his knuckles ached and his fury was causing him to shake.

“After all I’ve done for the Brotherhood… all the blood I’ve spilled in our name, how can you say that about me?” Danse said, clearly disgusted with the Elder’s idea of justice.

Maxson scowled, “you’re the physical embodiment of what we hate most. Technology that’s gone too far. Look around you, Danse. Look at the scorched earth and the bones that litter the wasteland. Millions… perhaps even billions, died because science outpaced man’s restraint. They called it a “new frontier” and “pushing the envelope”, completely disregarding the repercussions. Can’t you see the same thing is happening again?! You’re a single bomb in an arsenal of thousands preparing to lay waste to what’s left of mankind.”

Iliana couldn’t take Maxson’s verbal lashing any more, she pushed herself up and stepped towards him. Her eyes igniting with a burning rage. She wasn’t sure how a man like him could have worked his way into her mind, into her heart, but it had to stop here and now. She felt like such a fool, but she had to see her way out of this predicament, she had to see Danse out of it.

“Danse wants to save mankind, not destroy it!” Iliana exclaimed.

“You’re as delusional as you are insubordinate! How can you trust the word of a machine that thinks it’s alive? A machine that’s had its mind erased, its thoughts programmed…. Its very soul manufactured. Those ethics that its striving to champion aren’t even its own. They were artificially inserted in an attempt to have it blend into society.” Maxson could believe she could be so foolish. He assumed he had given her far too much credit. After all a pretty face and a little charisma could get you far in the world, couldn’t it?

Danse interjected, “It’s true.” He sighed, “I was built within the confines of a laboratory, and some of my memories aren’t my own. Bu when I saw my brothers dying at my feet, I felt sorrow. When I defeated an enemy of the Brotherhood, I felt pride. And when I heard your speech about saving the Commonwealth… I felt hope. Don’t you understand? I thought I was human, Arthur. From the moment I was taken in by the Brotherhood, I’ve done absolutely nothing to betray your trust and I never will.”

Maxson spoke, “It’s too late for that now. The Institute has foolishly chosen to grant you life. You simply should not exist. I don’t intend to debate this any longer. My orders stand.” His eyes darted to Iliana, analyzing her carefully. Part of him wanted her to lash out at him, just so he could teach her a thing or two about who she was dealing with, lest she had forgotten. But another part of him longed for her to submit to his orders and slink back, defeated to the Prydwen, and then perhaps some form of normal could return to his life.

Iliana jumped to speak but Danse silenced her. Turning to his friend he spoke, surrender in his voice, “It’s all right. We did our best. You convinced me that I was wrong to be ashamed of my true identity and I thank you for it. Whatever you decide, know that I’m going to my grave with no anger and no regrets.”

“Touching. Either you execute Danse, or I will, Knight. The choice is yours.” Maxson was growing impatient, and quite frankly this whole exchange with this synth abomination was beginning to make is skin crawl.

Enough was enough, Iliana had to stop this, “After all the sacrifices I’ve made, and all the battles I’ve fought for the Brotherhood, you need to listen to me.” She looked into Maxson’s eyes, her heart break visible, her voice came out in a whisper, “You owe me that much.”

Maxson soften slightly, “very well, I’m listening.” He could hear a plea in her voice, not so much a plea for Danse, but a plea for herself. She seemed fragile again for a moment, much like she had that night they spoke of ghosts on the Prydwen’s foredeck. He thought back to that night, comparing that lost, weary woman to this fearless, unfeeling fighter. Arthur couldn’t help but feel somewhat responsible for her transformation. He had needed her so much that he didn’t think about the consequences of his actions, and then he so simply pushed her away.

“Whether he’s human or not, he’s saved the lives of countless Brotherhood soldiers. Now it’s time you saved his.” Iliana continued her passionately plea, hoping that some part of him was the empathetic man she had once believed him to be.

He rubbed his brow in frustration, “You’re a stubborn woman. So. It appears we’ve arrived at an impasse. Allowing Danse to live undermines everything the Brotherhood stands for, yet you insist that he remains alive. Which leaves me with only a single alternative. Danse. As far as I’m concerned, you’re dead. You were pursued and slain by Knight Anderson and your remains were incinerated. From this day forward, you are forbidden to set foot on the Prydwen, or speak to anyone from the Brotherhood of Steel. Should you choose to ignore me, know you’ll be fired upon immediately. Do we understand each other?”

Danse smiled and his shoulders relaxed, “I do. Thank you for believing in me, Arthur.”

“Don’t mistake my mercy for acceptance. The only reason you’re still alive…. Is because of her” He looked at Iliana, a soft response to an unspoken question lingering in his gaze. “I’m returning to the Prydwen, Knight. Take some time, say your goodbyes, and then I expect to see you there. We still have the Institute to deal with” And with that, he turned and marched back to his Vertibird. Surely everyone on the Prydwen would be wondering where he was by now. He hoped he would be able to sort out his feelings while awaiting Iliana’s return, if she returned at all.

Danse turned to Iliana, color returning to his face, “It took a hell of a lot of guts to stand up to Maxson like that.”

“Friends take care of each other… no matter what.” Iliana’s heart began to slow to its normal steady rhythm.

“That they do. Which is why I’ve decided to stay here. I didn’t plan on spending the rest of my days at this old listening post, but it will have to do. Besides, you’re still going to need my help and I’ll be damned if I’m going to let you wander the Commonwealth alone. Now… you better get back to the Prydwen. In the meantime, I’ll start making this bunker more livable. If you ever need me, I’ll be right here.”

“I have a better idea…” Iliana mused. “Danse, how would you like to join the Minutemen? We could really use your skills. And with the Castle getting up and running I need someone there for me when I can’t be. You will have your own quarters, anything you need, power armor, weapons, whatever.”

“That would be outstanding, Iliana. Thanks for everything.” He smiled wide.

“Goodbye Danse.” Iliana returned the smile, she had saved him and given him purpose, all in a day’s work really.

“Farwell. I hope the next time we meet, it will be under happier circumstances.”


	16. Unspoken

Chapter Sixteen: Unspoken

Iliana sat perched cautiously on the side of the bed. Her eyes scanned Danse’s quarters, and she was unsure if she could actually get any sleep in here. There was something haunting about this room. Even though Danse was alive and well, making the Castle his new home, this just simply felt wrong. Maybe it was just this ship as a whole, Iliana thought. After all, Maxson was just next door, she could even hear the cacophony his heavy boots made pacing around the room.

She didn’t really know how much longer she could stomach the Brotherhood, even as a Paladin. They had gone from powerful saviors to bloodthirsty lunatics. Especially with her latest order, to wipe out the Railroad. Iliana was tired of the bloodshed, but she had to keep pushing until she made it to the Institute. She had to take them down and she would need the help of the Brotherhood to make that happen. She sighed heavily, how did things get so out of hand? She was just a scant few feet from a man she thought she loved, and it made her feel all the more hopeless. She had to say something to him, she had to let him know how he hurt her. How he was wrong about everything, how she wished she had kept her feet on the ground.

She stood quickly, lest she lose her nerve. Iliana was going to do it. She was going to tell him everything. She marched out of her newly acquired quarter right up to his door and knocked.

The loud rasp echoed through the room, startling Maxson out of his ever nagging thoughts.

“This had better be important.” He shot, pulling the door open to reveal the irksome intruder. Iliana, a breath of relief slipped out of his lips.

“I think we need to talk.” Something looked different in her, distant even. She had drifted around the ship like a ghost ever since she returned from that nasty business with Danse.

“I don’t know if this is the best time, Paladin.” Truthfully he was trying to delay the meeting he knew they would eventually have. He couldn’t face her, not yet. He could hardly look her in the eye when she reported in earlier today. He wasn’t ready to hear what she had to say, and if she didn’t say it than it didn’t exist, right?

“There will never be better time.” She slid past him into the room. She turned to address him, her stance all business, her arms behind her back, and her chin up. Her golden mass of curls was coiled tightly into a bun at the base of her neck. But her eyes, her eyes betrayed her outward confidence. They revealed a woman ready to crumble, a woman who was unsure of her next move, a woman who had lost her way.

“Is everything ok, Ili- I mean Paladin Anderson.”

Iliana took a deep breath; she was ready, “What the hell happened? What have I done to you? I gave you so much , Arthur. I fought for you, I loved you. I never lied you or betrayed you, not really. And yet, you push me away like some kind garbage. You’ve treated me appallingly, and treated your men appallingly. It’s like the closer we get to victory the more you’ve lost sight of what we’re really fighting for. Do you even remember any more? Or did you drink that away?” She motioned to the collection of empty liquor bottles strewn about his room.

Her words bit into him, “What have you done to me?! Where should I start? I don’t know, Iliana… maybe it had something to do with you keeping so much from me. Or maybe you’re blatant disrespect and insubordination. Take your pick.”

Iliana shook her head, anger building, “I’ve done everything you’ve asked, and all you do is push me away. Nothing was ever going to be good enough for you, was it? I hope the weather’s nice up there on your high horse.”

“Everything I’ve asked? Now that’s a clever joke. You have managed to fight me every step of the way. Your defiance has been nothing but a thorn in my side since you stepped foot on this ship.”

The air between them was charged with a dangerous electricity. The tension in the room growing thick and heavy, weighing them both to the spot where they stood.

“I can’t believe the bullshit I hear coming out of your mouth. Do you even listen to a word you say? Every single syllable you utter is this kind of hollow rhetoric. You’re fighting this battle against beings that you consider sub-human, when you lack the very thing that makes us human. A heart.”

Maxson scoffed, “A heart? Really? How-“

She cut him off, “You wanted to kill the only person that tried to be a friend to you. Is everyone around you just a pawn in this twisted game you’re playing?”

“He was a synth, Paladin. The very embodiment of everything that-“

“Spare me. I’ve heard it. Every word, loud and clear. Did you ever consider for a single moment that maybe, just maybe he was more of a human than you could ever be? You’re just a child, Arthur, riding on his daddy’s coat tails.”

“How dare you sully the Maxson name.” Before he could stop himself his hand flew. The back of his hand connected with a sting to Paladin’s cheek. He stared on in horror, what had he just done?

Iliana glowered as she rubbed her cheek. Her eyes all hellfire and burning rage. She took a deep calculating breath, balling her fist up tight. She swung with all her might, her fist landing square in his jaw.

Maxson stumbled back a step, pain radiating outwards from the impact. She had hit him; if it wasn’t for the staggering ache in his jaw he wouldn’t have believed it. But it wasn’t his face that hurt the most, it was his heart. He shouldn’t have pushed her away, and now he was going to lose her. But was she ever really his to lose, he wondered.

He rubbed his face, “Did you ever really care about the Brotherhood of Steel? Did you ever really care about me? Or was I just some kind of sick collateral damage?”

Iliana’s eyes locked with his. It was as if her heart had stopped beating. Her mouth dried up and words completely escaped her. The silence between them grew, as the humming of the Prydwen became louder. Their surrounding motionless, and a charge still filled the air. Something unspoken ricocheted off the walls, screaming for some kind of consideration, some kind of attention. And sometimes those unspoken words are the ones that speak the loudest.

 


	17. Apologies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Some content may not be appropriate for younger audiences**

Chapter Seventeen: Apologies

Something within her faltered. She stared Arthur down, unsure what her next move should be, quickly losing the fiery volition she had, as the brevity of her situation became apparent. The particles in the cabin’s stale air buzzed with an unrecognizable tension.

Iliana took a sharp breath and charged towards him, crashing into his solid frame. Her arms grasping desperately for him, needing him. Her lips searching longingly for his, grazing over his skin before finding their mark.

Maxson grabbed her wrist, maybe a little too hard, as she let out a small whimper. He pulled her into him, crushing her mouth with his, battling to regain some kind of control over the situation, over his life, over her.

Iliana gasped, trying to catch her breath. Her core ignited leaving her body warm and screaming for attention. She shoved his coat off as the two became a frantic tangle of arms and desperate kisses.

Tears burned hot on her cheeks, “I’m so sorry.” She muttered through broken kisses, catching her breath as she did. She ached to connect with him, to be near him. She needed to after everything that had happened over the last few weeks. She needed him to know where her heart was.

“Hush” he hissed, cutting her off. He yanked down the zipper of her flight suit, pushing it swiftly off her shoulders. Her porcelain skin glowed in the amber lights of his room; he took a moment to admire it. The pink buds of her nipples, the freckles that danced across her shoulders, her rosy cheeks, glistening lips, and gleaming sapphire eyes. He kissed her fervently, his lips battling for the control he so desperately needed.

 He spun her around, pulling her hips into his, making his need apparent. His hands slid over her flat, smooth stomach memorizing a trail from the curves of her hips up to the perky rounds of her breast. He scooped her breasts up in his hands, kneading them and rolling her pert pink nipples between his fingers.

Iliana arched her back, her breath caught in her throat as he kissed trails down her neck, nuzzling the curve of her shoulder. The roughness of his beard, the softness of his lips made her burn for him, the pattering between her legs growing stronger. His hand snaked up around her throat, tilting her head to one side for better access to the tantalizing curve there. His teeth grazed her tender flesh sending sharp shivers down her spine.

Arthur pushed her down onto the table in front of them. Her breasts pressed to the cold hard wood as her hands splayed out to either side. The sharp coolness of the table against her throbbing nipples caused her to gasp sharply. Maxson held her in place, his strong hand memorizing the silken warmth of her skin, the gentle curvature of her back. His other hand worked swiftly to unbutton his pants, releasing himself from the uncomfortable fabric.

He was practically starved for her; the desire to conquer her had all but driven him mad. He pushed her legs apart, positioning himself over her warm, wet opening before he drove himself deep inside of her. Her silken warmth, welcomed him, beckoning him deeper. He had missed this so damn much.

Iliana cried out, her hips biting into the edge of the table as he rode into her, his pace urgent and hard, demanding and greedy. Her fingers snaked around the top edge the table, holding herself in place against his furious advances. Resting her cheek against the cool wood a moan escaped her lips. She didn’t know if it had been their lack of intimacy or her insubordination that was driving him, but she didn’t really care, she welcomed every stroke that filled her so completely.

Hearing her sounds of satisfaction drove him wild. He pushed into her harder, making her cry out louder. His hands spread across the smooth skin of her backside as he kneaded the firm flesh there. Arthur could feel his knees beginning to shake and his climax beginning to mount. He pushed on harder, his fingers pulling her hips harder against him.

Iliana began to tense, a heat rolling over her, crashing in violent swells as she screamed his name. Her nails scouring marks into the worn tabletop. Her body shook and her nerves screamed out as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over her.

Arthur pushed on his own orgasm mounting from hers. Her skin was flushed and warm as she caught her breath beneath him. His breath caught sharp in his throat as he came, holding her hips tight, thrusting into her one last time.

He braced himself on the table, waiting for his heartbeat to slow. He placed a series of feather-soft kisses up and down her back before helping her to her feet. Arthur wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into an embrace. He buried his face into her shoulder, breathing her in. He held her for a moment before slumping onto his bed.

Iliana picked her clothes up off the floor, digging through the many pockets until she pulled out a worn cigarette case and her gold lighter. She removed the cigarette and delicately put it to her lips, lighting it and inhaling deeply. She set her belongings on the table and sat down next to him.

“I’m sorry for everything, Arthur.” She sighed, settling back against the pillow. Her skin glistened and a few stray curls had fallen free from her bun, Arthur couldn’t help but stare for a moment, she was nearly angelic like this.

“You don’t need to apologize. The things you’ve been through… the things I’ve put you through are unimaginable. I should’ve had more faith in you. I should’ve been more understanding.” He paused, rubbing his forehead tentatively, “Iliana, I’m sure this won’t come as a shock to you, but I don’t have much experience when it comes to matters of the heart. I’ve never had someone like you in my life, and to be honest, I don’t know what the hell I’m doing. I’m terrified of losing you, of losing myself.”

Iliana pulled him back into her lap and pushed his hair away from his face, “This is a whole new world for me too, in so many ways. I just need some reassurance that we’re doing the right thing, Arthur. I get so conflicted with the Brotherhood’s ideals because they oppose things I know to be true. The allies I’ve made out there are some of the very beings the Brotherhood says I should loathe.”

“You said something that got me thinking. You told me that Danse was more human than me. I don’t know anymore, Ili. Maybe you’re right, maybe I have lost track of my goal. Or maybe it’s time I find a new goal.” He thought for a moment about the exact goal he had in mind. Truthfully she had become his goal and he’d be damned if anything was going to stand in his way again.

He wrapped his fingers in hers, kissing her knuckles gently, “Somehow, with everything you’ve been through, you find the good around you. I admire that.”

“I just can’t lose hope that there’s something more to all of this.” She sighed, “I need you to understand that I’m gonna do whatever it takes to bring peace back to this place. But I need your help, Arthur, I can’t do it alone.”

 “You’ve left one hell of a mark around here. I don’t think even half of this would have been possible without you by my side.” He took a deep breath, closing his eyes and savoring the moment, “And that’s exactly where I need you to stay.”


	18. Primed

Chapter Eighteen: Primed

Iliana sat up in bed, sweat on her brow and a chill running down her spine. She knew it had to be sometime shortly after dawn, as she could hear the ship starting to come to life. Her stomach was in knots and turned furiously. She felt like she was going to be violently ill.

The images of their assault on the railroad kept flashing, tormenting her. They had been haunting her for days. It had been a blood bath, gruesome and gory. Those people hardly saw it coming, leaving them wildly unprepared for a siege of that caliber. Iliana wretched, she was certain she would be sick. The guilt was taking a toll on her stomach and her spirit.

She had to get moving; she couldn’t sit here all day wallowing in regret. But every time she moved her stomach lurched, if only she could make it to the showers she might begin to find some kind of relief. She gulped down a few deep breathes and stood up, her feet hitting the cool metal deck of the ship and the room spinning madly.

Iliana shuffled her way out into the corridors of the Prydwen. Fortunately, she mused, much of the crew was either still sleeping or had busied themselves with the day’s tasks. Taking deep breaths she pushed forward to the showers. The warm water against her chilled skin would be a welcome relief.

The water came on with deafening rush and she stepped inside the tiny stall. The heat stung her back lightly and she rested her forehead against the cool metal wall, breathing the steam in deeply as her nausea began to subside. It had to be the guilt she thought, she could hardly remember the last time she had felt so sick.

She vowed to herself that once she brought the Institute to its knees the senseless deaths would stop. No more. Iliana sobbed silently into the soothing stream of water. She wasn’t sure where her tears stopped and the water began, but it made no difference to her. Someone was going to have to pay for these sins, these monstrosities. Would it be her?

That’s when the thought hit her, if the Institute hadn’t interfered in this world none of this would have had to happen. If they had just left well enough alone countless lives would never have been affected. Her mood rapidly changed and suddenly she found herself furious. She could feel a fiery rage burning in the pit of her stomach where the knots had once been. They would pay, she thought, Shaun would pay.

She shut off the water and stormed back to her room, darting past her brothers and sisters that had awoken to greet the day. She couldn’t bear to speak with anyone right now, especially when spirits were so high. The victory was nearly tangible and the whole ship was abuzz with some kind of valiant energy. In this moment it sickened her, she needed to quench her sick bloodlust more than she needed to honor the Brotherhood.

She was hoping the outlet for her rage would not be wasted. After returning from Mass Fusion with the Berylium Agitator Iliana knew it would only be a short time before she found herself on the front lines. Something within her burned and boiled as she savored the idea that she was so close. She geared up, ready to make her way to Ingram, and make her way to the Institute.

“Glad to see you made it back in one piece.” Ingram jeered while tapping dials and checking the readings on Prime’s control panel, his life support system.

“I wouldn’t have made it without your help.” Iliana stated. It had been strange having someone at the Mass Fusion Tower to help her out. She had gotten so used to carting Danse around the wastes with her that Ingram’s presence on the mission had seemed surreal and somewhat uncomfortable.

“That’s funny,” Ingram scoffed. “I seem to remember having to talk you into letting me come along. Anyway, we shouldn’t stand around here talking… we’ve got a lot of work to do.”

The pair stared up at the large whirring machine. He was massive, intimidating almost, other worldly for sure. Iliana vaguely remembered seeing a film at the Starlight Drive-in about a giant robot from outer space who was hell bent on taking over the world. She chuckled at the memory, because after all, Liberty Prime would take over the world, wouldn’t he.

Ingram broke the silence, “Well this is it, the moment of truth. We’ve pre-programmed Liberty Prime’s battle coordinates into his navigational processor. As soon as he’s under his own power, he’ll head straight for the Institute. Elder Maxson wants you to follow and make sure he arrives at the C.I.T. in one piece. I’ve checked every wire and every bolt on the big guy. All we need to do is plug in the agitator, start Prime’s reactor… and cross our fingers.”

“We don’t need luck, Ingram, we’ve got you.” Iliana chirped. She meant it too. In another world she imagined that Ingram could have been a friend, she could see them sitting together chatting at a downtown bar. Making jokes and cutting loose, like something from her law school days. Two women, working their asses off in a man’s world.

Ingram looked at her, pride in her eyes, “I didn’t do it alone. Look, I discussed it with Elder Maxson, and we think you should be the one who has the honor of starting Liberty Prime. Just plug the Berylium Agitator into his reactor port, then head back down here and press the transfer button. Good luck Paladin, Ad Victorium.” Ingram saluted.

Iliana made her way up the clanking metal stairs that worked their way up to the top of Liberty Prime. She paused, glancing over the roof of the airport out at the foggy Commonwealth morning. She breathed in deep, the cool morning air filling her lungs. She was so close, but she still wasn’t sure how she would handle the showdown with her son, with that monster. She prayed, which she hadn’t done for a long time, since God had left this place a long time ago. She prayed for clarity, for strength, for unrelenting resolve to do what was right and necessary for the Commonwealth and her people.

And with that little prayer she shoved the Agitator in the reactor port. For a moment she swore she could feel the electricity buzzing between her and the machine. She was suddenly alive, more than she had been for a long time. She raced down the stairs, as fast as her feet could carry her. She felt some kind of child like joy as she went.

She raced back up to the terminal; Ingram stared at her with a glint of amusement in her eye. Iliana slapped the big red button. The electricity hummed, dials bounced, machinery whirred. Everyone stared up at the metal soldier in awe, not a single word spoken, but every thought the same.

Liberty Prime’s voice boomed over the waiting crowd, “Fusion core initialized. Liberty Prime full system analysis. All systems nominal. Weapons hot. Mission, destruction of any and all Chinese communists. Probability of Chinese victory, impossible.”

“Brotherhood, salute!” One of the officers bellowed as Prime’s footfalls shook the very ground they stood on.

“AD VICTORIUM!” The crowd shouted as one.


End file.
